Phoenix Rising
by Diva In The House
Summary: House/Male OC. House returns to PPTH after his hospital stay, but he and his co-workers struggle with the changes he brings with him. He meets a young man who might help him find his way back. Contains slight S5 spoilers, male/male romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Yes, another House/OC story. This one has him getting involved with a guy. If it's not your thing, don't read, and please be so kind as to keep your flames to yourself. As usual, I don't own any of the trademarked House stuff.**

# # #

House stood outside the sliding doors of PPTH, readying himself for his return to his work. All the arrangements had been made in anticipation of his release from that mental institution, and at the time, he'd felt he was long ready.

Now, standing outside those doors, he didn't feel so certain. Something felt…different, but House couldn't quite place his fingers on it. Finally, he took a deep breath, hitched his backpack over his shoulder, and entered the sliding double doors.

He quietly strode through the lobby, ignoring the eyes upon him as he waited for the elevator that would carry him back to his office, his work, his life. A shadow appeared at his side, and a whiff of perfume wafted to his nose.

"Cuddy." House barely glanced at his boss as he waited.

"Good morning, House. Welcome back." Cuddy lightly touched him on the shoulder, not sure what to expect.

House nodded solemnly. "Too soon to say whether it's good to be back." The elevator dinged as it arrived at their floor. "My ride's here. Gotta go. Lives to save, hell to raise, you know."

"Of course." Cuddy spoke smoothly as she watched him step on. He graced her with just a ghost of a smile as the doors closed.

Cuddy didn't quite know what to think. It looked like House, and it sounded like House, but it didn't act like the House she had come to know. He seemed…different, which would be no surprise, given the place he had spent the last few months. She just didn't know what kind of different this was, or how to handle it.

She sighed and returned to her office, dialing the extension for the Diagnostics department. "Foreman? Just wanted to let you know that House is on his way…Yes, literally. He's on the elevator right now…Of course, thank you."

# # #

The elevator arrived at the fourth floor, and House stepped off, striding toward Diagnostics, deciding to forego seeing Wilson for the time being. There would be time enough to catch up after he got himself resettled into his office and back into his routine.

He stopped in front of his office door, waiting for…he didn't know what. Finally he pushed through, glancing at the conference room as he set his backpack near his desk and looked around the room. Everything was as it was when he left, right down to the grey and red ball on his desk.

The team was gathered around the conference room table, going over case files, having some kind of animated discussion. All conversation stopped when House walked in, and four sets of eyes stared at him.

Chase spoke first. "Good to see you."

House nodded. "You too. Now get out of my department."

Chase smirked almost imperceptibly as he quickly exited. It was oddly comforting that some things hadn't changed.

After Chase left, House picked up the scattered case files. "Boring, boring, too simple, already dying…don't you have anything interesting for me?"

Taub gave House an unreadable look. "Cuddy didn't want to give us anything too complicated just in case…"

"Right. Because I hired a team of idiots who couldn't find their own ass without my help." House snapped, a small flame of resentment flaring up in him. He shook his head. "Go down to the clinic. Split my hours and don't come back until you find something decent."

Thirteen and Taub quickly gathered themselves and headed out the door. Only Foreman stayed behind, arms crossed over his chest.

House glanced back at him before he made his way into his office. "That goes double for you. I thought you were running this joint while I was away?"

"I still am…unofficially, of course."

House glowered at Foreman's statement. "Well, of course you are. Funny, then, that my name's still on that door. Maybe they can add your name in tiny type under mine."

Foreman rolled his eyes. He had known that House's return would make things awkward, at best. "I'll just head down to the clinic now, if you don't need me for anything."

House regarded Foreman suspiciously. "Fine. No going to Mommy behind my back. And by Mommy, I of course mean…"

"I wasn't going to go to Cuddy. Why would I?" Foreman snapped.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

The two men glared at each other, Foreman finally breaking the staring contest and walking away. No point in pissing off his boss on his first day back. It would serve no useful purpose and it would only give House more ammunition to use against him later on.

House limped over to his desk, preparing to log on to his computer. He frowned when his password didn't work. Sighing in annoyance, he called Cuddy's extension.

"Doctor Cuddy."

"It's House. Did you change my password?"

Cuddy sighed. "No, it probably expired. I'll have IT set you up with a new one. It shouldn't take long."

House's mouth twisted in a thoughtful expression. He should have known that. "Fine. Thanks."

He quickly hung up and sat back in his chair. After tossing his ball around for a few minutes, he decided to finally go visit Wilson. House hadn't seen him since Wilson picked him up from the institution, and even that ride had been awkward. Not to say it would be much better now, but it would be worth a shot.

# # #

Wilson jumped when he heard his office door bang open. Funny how quickly one got used to working without constant interruptions. On the other hand…he had truly missed having House around. Things had been far too quiet without him around, and he always felt like he had too much food on his plate at lunch without House to boldly steal half of it.

"Morning, House. How are…things?" Wilson tried to be casual in tone, but failed.

House shrugged. "Hard to say. Nothing's happening yet. No case, no patient…pretty boring, if you want to know the truth." He plopped down on the couch, tapping his cane between his legs.

Wilson didn't know what to say. Should he act like nothing had changed, like his best friend hadn't just spent months in a mental institution after a breakdown? He was sure that his and House's friendship was like a minefield right now. One wrong step and the whole thing would blow up in their faces.

"I'm…sorry to hear that?" Wilson silently cursed himself for making his statement sound like a question.

House rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. "Thanks. That was very…not at all helpful. Now I'm bored and irritated. See you later. Lunch is on you."

"Usually is." Wilson intoned mildly as he watched House leave, quietly closing the door behind him. That was unusual. Normally House would have slammed the thing behind him just to make Wilson jumped. Something had changed between them. He just wished he knew what.

# # #

House sat in his office that afternoon, working his way through mountains of mail and paperwork that had piled up in his absence. He finally got on the computer, thanks to the kid from IT that nervously presented him with his new password, and scrolled through his e-mails. Very few of them were relevant anymore, and he deleted the majority of them before moving on to a game of solitaire.

Taub finally entered his office in the late afternoon, a barely perceptible excitement in his eye. He handed a clinic case file to House. "I think I ran across something. Cuddy and Foreman both seem to agree with me."

House froze, handing the case file back to Taub. "Perhaps you should go to Foreman and Cuddy and ask them where to start with this one." He rose from his desk, picked up his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder.

Taub looked puzzled. "Where are you going?"

"Home." House spoke sharply. "Obviously I'm not needed here."

He quickly exited his office, Taub hot on his heels. "What do you mean, 'you're not needed'?"

"Which part of that didn't you understand?" House snapped as he pressed the elevator button. "Run to Cuddy and Foreman. I'm sure they can help you figure it out."

House was on the elevator before Taub could respond. As the doors closed, House could see the shorter doctor fold his arms over his chest, huffing in frustration. _Good. Let him stew a little. It'll be good for him, build character._

He stepped off the elevator and nearly ran into Cuddy. She looked up at him with an indignant look, Foreman standing directly behind her.

"Where do you think you're going?" Cuddy asked, already furious.

"Home. As I told the short one upstairs, I know when I'm not needed. Matter of fact, I'm not sure why I came back in the first place."

"Now hold on just one minute!" House could hear Cuddy's heels clicking behind him as he strode toward the exit. He felt her tap him on the shoulder.

She held the case file out to him, her blue-gray eyes pleading with him. "Just take a look. I'm pretty sure we can't do this one without you."

He glared at Cuddy, snatching the file from her hand and scanning it. It was interesting, but not quite enough to hold him here today. House handed it back to Cuddy, his expression softening slightly. "The kids can start this one without me. I'll be back tomorrow."

Foreman gestured for the file. "I'll get us started. See you in the morning, House."

"Right." House regarded Foreman suspiciously. He'd been just a little too eager to take this on. It made him wonder.

He turned and walked out of the hospital, swinging his leg over the back of his bike and putting on his helmet. A ride followed by a stop at a bar might be just what this doctor ordered tonight.

# # #

House found himself at an out of the way bar, a dark place where he could easily blend into the woodwork, slowly sipping at his second bourbon. He didn't want to get himself into a position where he had to find another way home, not after the way everyone had treated him today.

He barely noticed someone else occupying the stool next to him as he nursed his drink, and he barely heard the male voice next to him ask for whatever 'he' had.

"Hey, man, you look like you could use some company." The voice seemed to be directed at him.

House smirked. "You hitting on me or something?"

"And if I was?" The voice seemed a little nervous, trying to gauge his reaction. It piqued House's interest.

He straightened up on his barstool and faced the voice. The guy was young, mid 30s, tops. His dark brown hair fell in his bright green eyes. His long, slender fingers brushed the hair out of his eyes as he appraised House.

House's mouth twitched in amusement. "Then you're either brave, crazy, or both."

The young man relaxed and smiled, holding out his hand to House. "Anthony Taylor. You can call me Tony."

House slowly extended his own hand. "Greg House. Most people just call me House."

Anthony took the hand House offered, grasping it firmly in his own. House's hand was rough, with long fingers and calluses at the tips. "You're a musician. Guitar?"

House chuckled and took back his hand. "Not professionally. Been playing ever since I could remember."

Anthony smiled softly. "I started to play when I was a kid. My dad took it away when I was fourteen. Said it was for sissies." He chuckled ironically. "Obviously it didn't change anything."

"Obviously." House took another sip of his bourbon, feeling the warmth ease down his throat. "Not saying you are or anything."

Anthony shrugged. "Fag. Sissy. Homo. I've heard it all. It doesn't bother me. That's other peoples' problem, not mine. I'm _totally_ fine with who I am."

"Which explains why you're in a straight bar trying to pick up a potentially straight man."

"I'm not looking for a screaming queen, House. Just looking for a nice guy to hang out with."

"Well, good luck with that." House drained his bourbon and dropped some cash on the bar. "Have a good night."

Anthony watched the older man put on his leather jacket, pick up his cane, and head out into the night. He quickly finished his drink, threw some money on the bar, and started after him.

"House!" Anthony managed to catch up to him before he got on the bike. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. I guess my gaydar's on the fritz tonight."

House leaned on the bike, studying Anthony once more. He was taller than he appeared at first, nearly as tall as House, with a lanky build. The way he kept brushing his hair out of his eyes stirred something in him that House thought was long dead, beaten out of him by that son of a bitch that called himself his father.

Finally House dug into his jacket pocket, producing a pen and a piece of paper. With a slightly shaking hand, he scribbled his phone number and handed it to Anthony.

"Maybe your…'gaydar' isn't as off as you thought." House climbed on his bike, hooking his helmet under his chin. "Call me sometime."

Anthony watched House start up the bike and fly off down the street, stunned by the evening's events. He wasn't sure what he had expected when he struck up that conversation, but he couldn't help but be intrigued by the older man.

He grinned and stuck the piece of paper inside his jacket. House would definitely be getting a phone call later.

# # #

**This is the bit where you read and review, minus the flames, of course. :) Just push the little button and tell me what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Back at it with another update. Once again, I don't own them, never have, never will. Enjoy.**

# # #

House stood in front of his bathroom mirror when he got home that night, surprised by his own behavior at the bar. He wracked his brain, trying to remember the last time he had felt any attraction to a guy, never mind let a guy hit on him.

He suddenly wished he hadn't given Anthony his phone number. The simple act opened up possibilities that House wasn't sure he was willing to deal with. It threw his whole notion of his own sexuality into question, an idea he was only starting to work through when he left the institution and moved into outpatient counseling.

Right now he was curious about Anthony. What did the younger man see in him that House didn't? Despite the 'gaydar' crack, something obviously drove him to that particular bar instead of to one of the gay clubs that surrounded Princeton. If the guy wanted a sure thing, he certainly could have gone that route.

House was instantly suspicious. He ran through a quick mental checklist, trying to remember anything that might have stood out. Nothing came immediately to mind, but that didn't mean anything. Anthony could well be hiding any number of things.

The chiming phone in House's pocket pulled him from his thoughts. House quickly dug it out, checking the Caller ID. It showed an unknown number, unusual in itself. Intrigued, House finally answered.

"House."

"Hey, man." The gentle voice laughed on the other end. "Thought you gave me a bullshit number."

House was baffled. "Why would I do that?"

Anthony shook his head on the other end. For an old guy, House was kind of naïve. "You mean to tell me you never gave someone a false number?"

"That's not my style." House spoke bluntly. "If I didn't want to talk to you, I wouldn't have bothered to give you a number at all."

"Fair enough." Anthony immediately changed his assessment of House. He wasn't naïve, necessarily, just honest. It was kind of refreshing. "So…I…I called you for a reason."

House rolled his eyes, making his way to the living room and easing his way onto the leather couch. "Duh. Spit it out already."

Anthony paced around his kitchen, running his hand through his dark hair. "I guess this is where I ask you out…or something."

House was immediately amused. "Like…a date? Is that what you people call it?"

_You people. Oh, boy._ Anthony wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into. "Only if that's what you want to call it. If you just want to call it getting together to hang out and get to know each other, that's cool, too. Date seems simpler."

House chuckled. If nothing else, Anthony had a sense of humor. That alone might make spending some time with the guy worthwhile. "How about this…I work at Princeton-Plainsboro. There's a deli across the street. Meet me there and we'll hang out, see how it goes."

"Sounds good. Time?"

House thought about this for a minute. He wasn't sure he wanted the entire hospital knowing his personal business, even if it amounted to nothing. "One o'clock. Less crowded then."

Anthony nodded. House struck him as a very private man, and he probably didn't want any co-workers getting into his personal business. "I'll be there. See you tomorrow, House."

"See you, Anthony."

House closed his phone, the realization of what he had just done washing over him. He had a date. Not just an ordinary date. A date with a _man._

Things were getting weird in a hurry. House took a deep breath and leaned against the back of the couch. It was just lunch. It wasn't that big a deal, really. If it went badly, he never had to see the guy again. If it went well…who knew. He was taking a huge chance, but it felt like a chance worth taking.

# # #

House found himself in front of his closet the next morning, staring at the selection of button down shirts. It took a moment for him to realize what was taking him so damned long. On a subconscious level, he was trying to pick something that he thought Anthony might like.

He chuckled to himself and picked a dark blue button down to go over his gray t-shirt and dark wash jeans. Since when had he ever given a crap about his appearance? He made his way to the bathroom, scrubbing his hand over his short gray hair, inspecting his rough face.

After some self-debate, House decided to leave the stubble, but impulsively reached into the medicine cabinet for an old bottle of cologne. He couldn't remember who gave it to him. Stacy, probably. He took a quick whiff of the spicy scent before splashing a small amount in his hand and spreading it over his face and neck.

This was crazy. He never went to this much trouble for anyone, male or female. What the hell was he thinking?! House shook off his doubts and headed out to the living room, throwing on his jacket and picking up his backpack.

House climbed onto his bike and strapped on his helmet, firing up the bike. He was determined to have a perfectly normal day, lunch 'date' or no lunch 'date'. Cuddy, Wilson, and his team might not see it that way, but House already knew the sooner he managed to get things back to normal, the better off things would be.

# # #

Three heads turned as one when House entered the office, hanging up his jacket and dumping his backpack on the floor. He strode into the conference room, feeling his team's eyes upon him as he poured himself a cup of coffee and moved to the whiteboard.

"It's looking a lot empty." House took a drink of his coffee and looked at the three faces around the conference table. "I thought you were working this case when I left yesterday?"

An awkward silence fell over the room, and a grin spread over House's face. "Admit it…you missed me."

Taub and Foreman rolled their eyes, and Thirteen hid a smirk behind her hand. Foreman was the first one to speak.

"Just because we didn't use your damn whiteboard doesn't mean we weren't working on it." Foreman snapped. "We just work differently without you."

House gestured for the file, nearly snatching it from Thirteen's hand. He flipped it open and started scribbling symptoms on the board. "Well…there's a new-old sheriff in town. It's still my department, in case you've forgotten. I don't see your name on that door."

Taub studied the symptoms that House copied onto the board. He had to admit, his boss's disorganized style had some merit. An idea slowly came to him.

"I'm going to do an LP. Looks like a possible infection ."

"You do that." House growled. "Should have done it yesterday, but…better late than never, I guess."

House sent Thirteen to help out Taub, leaving him alone with Foreman. He watched House write out possible diagnoses next to the symptoms, folding his arms over his chest.

"Was that crack really necessary?"

House turned to him, snapping the cap back on the marker. "Call it…reestablishing my authority. Believe it or not, I'm perfectly capable of running this show. I don't need you babysitting me." He fixed Foreman with a glare. "Go make yourself useful."

Foreman huffed in irritation, turning and leaving the conference room. This whole 'watch-over-House' scenario was playing out exactly as he had predicted, but with a different edge to it. House seemed…different somehow, although Foreman couldn't quite put his finger on it. His time away had clearly had an effect. Whether it was for better or worse wasn't obvious just yet.

# # #

House was sitting at his desk, pondering the case as well as his upcoming lunch…thing. He tossed his ball up in the air, catching it on the way down in a soothing rhythm. It seemed to help his thought process on both fronts as he wrestled with everything that was going on in his mind.

Wilson popped his head into his office, breaking his train of thought. "Free for lunch?"

House caught the ball, shaking his head at Wilson. "Nope. Kind of have my own thing going on."

"Really." Wilson entered House's office, intrigued by House's statement. "Making new friends?"

"You could say that." House tilted his head, not sure how much he wanted to reveal to Wilson. If he told too much, he risked losing Wilson as a friend. He was sure he couldn't afford that. "Met a guy last night."

Wilson closed the office door, not sure how to interpret what he was hearing. "Like…how?"

House rolled his eyes. "Like…he introduced himself, we chatted, I gave him my number…you know, like you'd meet anyone."

Wilson was baffled. This definitely wasn't the House he remembered. The House he knew would never actively seek out anyone. Something was very strange here. "Okay, so how does this translate into you not being free for lunch?"

"God, you're dense, Wilson." House huffed in annoyance and he heaved himself from his office chair. "I'll see you later. Don't want to be late for my date."

_Date?! No, he's got to be messing with my head._ "What the hell do you mean, 'date'?" Wilson followed House out of his office and down the hallway to the elevator.

"The kind I don't need a goddamn chaperone for." House was feeling flustered enough without Wilson's help.

"Look…if that's your thing…I'm okay with that." Wilson placed a hand on House's shoulder. House tensed up, but didn't pull away. "I just never…"

"Yeah, I know. Me either." House tapped his cane on the floor as he waited for the elevator. "Go find Foreman. I hear he's looking for a lunch buddy."

Wilson smiled a little as he stepped onto the elevator with House. "Would it be appropriate to say 'good luck'?"

House puffed out his cheeks as he relaxed a little. "Maybe. Is it appropriate to say I'm a nervous fucking wreck?"

"I'd be surprised if you weren't."

House nodded, a serious expression on his face. "I don't know what's going to come out of this. Maybe something, maybe nothing."

"No wonder you're nervous." Wilson nodded in understanding. "First dates are always a train wreck."

"That's the thing. I don't even know if I should call this a date or not." House's mouth twisted in amusement.

Wilson shrugged as they stepped off the elevator. "Are you asking for my advice?"

"No, not really." House paused before he started toward the exit. "Just…I don't know what I was asking."

"You're opening yourself up. It's a good thing, no matter what happens." Wilson awkwardly reached out to touch House's shoulder. "Have fun and…good luck."

"Thanks, Wilson. See you in an hour."

With that, House made his way to the exit, pulling his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and shoving them on his face. Wilson watched him go, still not sure what to think. House looked like he had taken more than five minutes to get ready today, and Wilson thought he had caught a whiff of cologne when they were in the elevator.

Yes, it was definitely a date. Wilson tried to wrap his brain around the idea of House dating a man, and failed miserably. It didn't matter what he thought, though. As long as House was reaching out, it couldn't be a bad thing. He just hoped both House and whoever he was meeting knew what they were getting into.

# # #

House entered the deli, taking off his shades and glancing around the deli, not sure he would recognize Anthony in broad daylight. Much to his surprise, he spotted the younger man fairly easily when he waved House over from the booth he was lounging in.

He limped over to the booth and slid in, nervously rubbing his thigh. In the light of day, Anthony's eyes appeared to be a brighter shade of green than he remembered, leading House to wonder if they were colored contacts. The hair was the same dark brown, and Anthony kept shoving it out of his eyes as he appraised House.

The bright blue eyes were the first thing that Anthony noticed about the older man, set off by the dark blue button down he wore over a gray t-shirt. They were set in a rough face, a face that looked like it had lived a difficult life, edged in about three days of growth.

Anthony didn't normally go for older men, but he found House intriguing. It was clear that House wasn't completely comfortable with the situation, and Anthony wasn't sure how to set him at ease. Finally, Anthony leaned across the table to House.

"Look, as far as I'm concerned, this is just lunch between new friends. It doesn't have to be anything." Anthony gave House a gentle smile. "Although…you do look very nice."

"Uh…thanks, I think." House briefly smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I…might have mentioned something to my friend. I don't think he believed me, though."

Anthony gave House a questioning look. "Your…friend?"

"Wilson. He works down the hall from me. We've been friends forever."

"So…nothing between you two?"

"Hell no." House barked out a short laugh. "He's more a brother than anything else. A caring, irritating, smothering brother, but a brother nevertheless. Not to mention straight as an arrow."

"Good to know." Anthony smiled a little and played with the salt and pepper shakers. Not that he was a jealous sort of guy, but…he liked to know where he stood. "Anyone else I should know about?"

House's mouth quirked in amusement. "Definitely not. You?"

Anthony shook his head. "Not anymore. Split with my last…guy a few months ago. I haven't invested a lot of energy in finding someone new."

"Interesting." House studied Anthony across the table. "So you just up and decided to hang out in some bar and take your chances."

Anthony shrugged. "I happen to live close to the bar, so I hang out there from time to time. I didn't _plan_ on anything. It just sort of…happened."

"Mm-hm." The waitress brought their food, and House was soon distracted by his meal, turning over the conversation in his mind.

They ate in relative silence, punctuated by the occasional burst of conversation, and they soon found themselves relaxing a bit around each other. It was becoming much like just lunch with a friend…an attractive friend, granted, but House felt his initial nervous energy ebbing away as Anthony drew him in with his casual chat.

Anthony was a very different kind of person. It was a nice change to hang out with someone who wasn't from the hospital, who didn't have some kind of history with House, someone who didn't assume he would break at the slightest provocation. It was a good thing, a very good thing, and it made House want to spend more time with Anthony.

The waitress brought the bill, and Anthony snapped it up before House could even reach his back pocket. "Don't sweat it. I'll get it this time."

House's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Guess that makes me the girl here, right? I don't have to put out or anything, do I?"

Anthony fixed House with a wicked grin. "Not this time. If we go to dinner though…"

House leaned across the table, and Anthony caught just a whiff of his cologne. "I'll be sure to doll up for you."

Anthony bit back a comment, figuring House was just about to the limit of his comfort zone. The two slid out of the booth, Anthony gesturing House to walk ahead of him, stepping out of the deli and out to the sidewalk.

"Look…all jokes aside…" Anthony lightly touched House's shoulder. "This was nice. I'd like to see you again, if you're not too freaked out by the idea."

House nodded, not reaching out to Anthony, but not backing away, either. "Oddly enough…I enjoyed this too. It was…different. In a good way, I mean." House tentatively reached out to brush Anthony's bangs out of his eyes. "And get a damned haircut already. Just because you're a queen doesn't mean you have to look like one."

Anthony rolled his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind. If they take away my queer card, though…I'm holding you personally responsible." He gave House a quick peck on the cheek and squeezed his hand before turning to walk down the street. "I'll call you about dinner."

_That sneaky little…_"Yeah, you do that." House rubbed his cheek where Anthony had laid his sneak attack. Oddly enough, House wasn't feeling freaked out by the sudden show of affection. Matter of fact, he secretly hoped there might be a little more where that came from.

# # #

**Thank you for your reviews and such so far. They mean a lot. Now give me more! :D Push the button.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Feeling update crazy today. :P Still don't own them, probably never will. Enjoy anyway. :)**

# # #

Wilson was hanging out near the reception desk in the front lobby, idly chatting with one of the nurses, occasionally glancing at the double doors that led into PPTH. House should be returning any time from his lunch…thing, and Wilson had to admit, he was more than a little curious about House's new friend. He wasn't jealous, far from it. It was good for both of them, as far as Wilson was concerned. The fact that House was reaching out to others meant that perhaps he wouldn't lean so heavily on Wilson.

Finally the double doors whooshed open, and House strode through, sunglasses on, whistling to himself as he made his way through the lobby. Wilson flashed the nurse a quick smile and excused himself to race after his friend, catching him just before he arrived at the elevators.

House lifted his shades, glancing briefly at Wilson, who looked at him with a hopeful expression. He smirked slightly as he let the sunglasses settle back over his eyes.

"Something you want, Wilson?"

Wilson shrugged, attempting to sound casual. "Just thought I'd see how your lunch thing went."

"My lunch _date_ was fine." The elevator opened, and House stepped on. He removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his t-shirt. Wilson quickly followed, and the door closed on them, taking them to the fourth floor. House huffed in exasperation. "Are you stalking me?"

"No, of course not." Wilson squinted, trying to get a read on House. As usual, it proved impossible. If House didn't want to reveal something, no force on earth could make him. "So you're calling it a date now."

"Yes." House's tone warned Wilson to back off.

"Do you plan on seeing him again?"

"Jesus, what is with you?" House snapped, already irritated with Wilson.

"Nothing! I just…" Wilson ran his hands through his hair, settling on the back of his neck. "Ever since you came back, things have been…different. I don't know what to think."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to jump you in the elevator or anything. You're safe." House rolled his eyes in amusement. "Anthony, on the other hand…"

"Oh for God's sake." Wilson looked exasperated. "I'm not worried about _that_. I just worry about you."

"I know this will be impossible for you, but stop worrying." House glanced over at his friend. "I_ am _capable of taking care of myself."

"I wish I could believe that, House." Wilson's face changed to a look of concern. "You don't exactly have a great track record as far as that goes."

"I don't have a damn thing to prove to you, Wilson." House's voice was extraordinarily calm as they stepped off the elevator. "All I know is…things _have _changed. Quit waiting around for me to screw up and just take me as I am."

He turned his back on Wilson, making his way to his office. Wilson simply watched him go, noting that he seemed to be walking a little taller and a little straighter. House was different, no question. Whether these changes would stick was a different story. All Wilson could do now was wait and see. It was frustrating, but it was all he could do.

# # #

House finally made it back to his office after disentangling himself from Wilson. While he was grateful his best friend hadn't abandoned him, House was finding Wilson's extreme hovering a bit, well, extreme.

Wilson's concern was only natural, House supposed. Even if Wilson was supposedly okay with House's new…thing, it had to be more than a little odd for him. Hell, it was odd for House. He hadn't allowed himself to feel an attraction to another man in many years, at least since med school.

He didn't feel like analyzing things just then. House decided to set the puzzle aside until he could work it out in counseling. The outpatient counseling was helping, no doubt, just not always fast enough to satisfy House. His counselor had to constantly remind him that House had spent many years burying his issues, and it might take more than a few years to dig it all up and deal with it.

The door opening between his office and the conference room caught his attention, and he glanced up to see who was entering. It was Thirteen, holding the case file in her hand.

"LP was clean." She calmly reported. Her nose suddenly wrinkled as she sniffed the air. "Is that you?"

House rolled his eyes. "Mexican for lunch. I can't digest all that crap like I used to."

Thirteen fixed him with a meaningful look. "After we completed the LP, the patient started coughing up blood. Foreman's scheduling her for an MRI right now. And that cologne? It works for you."

House stared her down, his bright blue meeting her cat-like green. "Don't you have some test you need to run?"

Thirteen looked smug as she left the office. Clearly something was going on with House. She knew that if she simply observed long enough, whatever it was would bubble to the surface. It was only a matter of time.

# # #

The patient took a turn for the worse, the MRI revealing nothing. House stood at the whiteboard, looking at the ever increasing list of symptoms. Nothing was connecting, and it was frustrating as hell.

He didn't hear Cuddy enter the conference room, but he smelled her as she walked up behind him. Soon she was beside him, her eyes widening at the symptoms covering the whiteboard.

"Wow." Cuddy sounded shocked. "It's a wonder she's still alive."

"I'm about to turn this thing over and use the other side. Been a while since I've had to do that." House's eyes crinkled as he turned over the case in his mind, searching for anything that would connect the symptoms.

Cuddy reached out and touched his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." House scowled. "I'll be better once I get this thing solved."

"I just…" Cuddy backed away, her eyes filled with concern. "Don't push so hard. You can go home if you need to. Let Foreman handle things."

"Yeah, because he's done such a kick-ass job so far." House grumbled.

Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips in frustration. "I just don't want to lose you again, that's all."

"Not going anywhere, especially right now." House replied testily. "Can't you see my patient's on the edge of dying?"

"House…"

"For Christ's sake, Cuddy, go home!" House finally snapped at her. "I'll call if I need something, you know that. That hasn't changed. Just let me do my damn job."

Cuddy sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with House. "Just take it easy, okay? That's all. Good luck with her."

"It'll be a hell of a lot easier when you get out of my hair." House's phone started chiming as he finished talking to Cuddy. He flipped it open and answered. "House."

Cuddy exited, taking the hint of House turning his back to her. She knew she was probably being too gentle with House, but considering his state of mind earlier in the year, she felt justified. Not knowing what had precipitated his breakdown made her want to shelter him, protect him. It was difficult to take care of someone who wasn't interested in being taken care of, though. With that, she left him to his own devices, hoping he had the sense to do what he needed to do to take care of himself.

# # #

House breathed a small sigh of relief when Cuddy finally left. After Wilson's hovering earlier in the day, the last thing he wanted was one more person obsessing over his mental state. He was fine, fine enough to function, anyway. How long would it take for the people around him to just let him be himself, let him get back into his work groove?

The voice at the other end of the phone brought him back to the real world. "House? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." House continued to scribble notes on the whiteboard. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Just wanted to see if you were free tonight."

House held the phone away from his ear, surprised by Anthony's words. "Jesus, obsess much?"

Anthony laughed self-consciously. "Sorry, didn't mean to bother you."

"It's cool. I'm still working, that's all."

"Ah." Anthony paced around his living room, suddenly worried that he moved on House too fast. "I'll let you go. Call me if you get a chance."

"Yep, I will." House responded absentmindedly and closed his phone, stuffing it in his pocket. He moved from the conference room to his office, pacing in frustration as the pain in his leg built from the long hours spent on it.

Thoroughly frustrated, he flopped down in his Eames chair, lifting his leg onto the footstool, rubbing the cramping thigh. Just as he got settled, his pager went off.

He pulled it out of his pocket, noting the code. "Shit." He muttered, and immediately heaved himself out of the chair, grabbing his cane and flying out of his office. Hopefully he'd make it before the patient crashed completely, and hopefully his team was busting their collective ass to bring her back from the brink.

# # #

House pushed his way into the patient's room, where Taub and Thirteen were frantically working over the patient that was in full cardiac arrest.

"What the hell happened?!" House threw his cane aside, limping heavily to the patient's side.

"I was hooking up her IV antibiotics, and she arrested." Thirteen spoke loudly over the beeping monitors.

House and the team worked around the patient, finally stabilizing her once again. He mentally noted more symptoms to add to the whiteboard once he got back to the office. He left the room, the team following quickly behind him.

They were soon sitting around the conference room table, debating symptoms, trying to connect everything. Voices started rising as the night wore on, and tempers started flaring, ending when their pagers went off once again.

House stayed in the conference room while the others flew down to attempt to stabilize their rapidly deteriorating patient. Soon House's phone chimed again, the familiar Hanson song cheerfully playing out of it.

"House."

"She's gone." Thirteen's soft voice carried through the phone.

"Dammit." House visibly sagged. "Arrange to have the body taken to the morgue. We'll figure it out during the autopsy."

House snapped his phone closed and started erasing his whiteboard, that painful feeling of failure washing over him. Taub and Foreman soon returned to finish the charting, somber expressions on their faces.

"I'm out of here. Leave the chart on my desk. I'll sign off on it in the morning." House collected his backpack and jacket, limping heavily to the elevator. Wilson was there waiting for him.

"What the hell are you still doing here?"

"Digging my way out of paperwork hell. You?"

House shrugged. "Just lost my patient."

"Sorry to hear it."

"Yeah, well." House looked down at the floor, feeling beaten and defeated. "Can't win them all, I guess."

"Right." Wilson glanced over at his friend. "You want to grab a pizza? Unless, of course, you have other plans."

House rolled his eyes. "No, no other plans. I'll probably just go home and pass out in front of the TV."

"Well…if you're sure…"

"I'm sure. Thanks anyway, Wilson."

The two men separated at the parking lot. "See you in the morning, House."

"Night, Wilson." House dug his phone out of his pocket before he climbed on his bike. He scrolled through his contacts, hitting the speed dial button. "Anthony? Yeah, it's House. Looks like my night just opened up."

# # #

House's eyes flew open when he heard the knock on the door. Funny, he didn't even remember closing his eyes. He rolled off the couch and stumbled to the door, unlocking and opening it.

Anthony stood there, hair in his eyes, looking a bit surprised at House's appearance. House's hair stuck up at all angles and he had a sleepy look, as if he had just woken up. Bare feet and lounge pants with the gray t-shirt he'd been wearing earlier completed the look.

Anthony's green eyes flickered with concern. "Everything okay?"

"Rough day. I fell out on the couch when I got home. Come on in. Pizza's on the way."

House flopped himself down on the couch, motioning for Anthony to join him. He quietly sat down, taking off his shoes, observing House.

He had to admit, he was at a bit of a loss when it came to House. He seemed to genuinely want companionship, if nothing else. Anthony wasn't sure what else might transpire over the course of the night.

House seemed to sense Anthony's discomfort, and broke into a small smile. "Relax. This isn't a booty call or anything."

"That's good to know." Anthony laughed a little at House's bold statement, sliding a little closer to House. "So why am I here?"

"Just wanted the company, I guess." House slumped down a bit. "Wilson offered, but I didn't feel like being drowned in sympathy tonight."

Anthony was a bit puzzled. "Why would he have done that?"

_Oops._ House had revealed a bit more than he planned. _Well, to hell with it. He might as well know what he's dealing with._ House exhaled heavily and turned to face Anthony.

"If you're going to spend any time with me, there's…a few things you should know." House spilled the story of his breakdown, his admittance to the mental institution, his release, and his return to work and the difficulty everyone had in readjusting.

Anthony regarded him with an arched eyebrow. "Any other skeletons in the closet I should know about?"

House twisted his mouth thoughtfully. "Nope, I think that about covers it. At least for now. I'll understand if you run away screaming now."

"Sorry, you're going to have to do better than that if you want to get rid of me." Anthony tentatively reached out to stroke House's cheek.

"Dammit. I'll have to come up with a better story, then." House stiffened up a bit, but didn't move away. A knock at the door made them both jump a little. "Probably the pizza."

"I'll get it." Anthony hopped up from the couch and started toward the door.

"Hold on." House pulled out his wallet, handing cash to Anthony.

Anthony paid for the pizzas and laid them out on the coffee table. They relaxed and ate, falling into the easy conversation they had found over lunch.

Finally they polished off the pizzas, and House relaxed into the couch, stretching out his neck before he did so.

Anthony tilted his head at House. "Turn around."

"What the hell for?"

"Just trust me."

House gave him a skeptical scowl, but turned around anyway. He felt Anthony's hands on his neck, gently working the knots that had built up there.

"You know, if you just wanted to get into my pants…" House grumbled, even as he relaxed under Anthony's touch.

"Not even in my plan. I'm a certified massage therapist."

House snorted. "Could you be a little more stereotypical? How many cats do you have?"

Anthony lightly tapped House on the back of the head. "Very funny. As it turns out, I'm allergic to cats."

House chuckled softly as Anthony moved from his neck to his shoulders, letting out a small rumble of approval. "Hmmm…is that even legal?"

"Smartass." Anthony continued moving down House's back, feeling the muscles release the tension they held. "Damn, I guess you did have a tough night."

"Patient died before we could figure out what was wrong with her."

"Sorry to hear it."

"It happens."

"Still sucks."

"Yeah." House fell silent, allowing Anthony to work down his back, feeling his hands slip under his shirt. "Watch it…"

"No funny stuff, promise." Anthony moved from the couch to the floor. "This will be easier if you take off your shirt and stretch out."

House regarded Anthony skeptically. "Yeah, right. I'm not an idiot."

"Didn't say you were."

"Fine." House scowled, but took off his shirt and stretched out, taking up the full length of the couch. "You so much as lay one finger on my ass and you're dead."

"Fair enough." Anthony returned to working on House's back, which was surprisingly well-built for his age. The right shoulder was significantly more built up than the left, probably due to leaning on his cane. "How long have you been using the cane?"

"Ten, twelve years. Why?" House mumbled, closing his eyes and letting Anthony's hands work over him.

"Just wondering. Your shoulder must get awfully sore from leaning on the cane." Anthony concentrated his efforts on the shoulder, feeling the mess of knots under the skin.

"Used to it now…OW." One blue eyeball glared at Anthony. "Easy there."

"Sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you." Anthony tilted his head at House. "Want me to stop?"

"Nope. Just take it easy. I'm a delicate flower, you know."

Anthony snorted. "Like hell. You're tougher than you think."

"Still not getting into my pants…not tonight, anyway." House smirked.

"Oh, you're funny." Anthony moved from House's shoulder to his back, and soon Anthony heard House snoring, his back rising and falling in gentle rhythm. He patted House, rising from the floor to sit on the coffee table, watching the older man sleep.

He reached out, placing a hand on House's head, lightly running his thumb over his hair. Now that he was relaxed, his rough face took on a softness that it didn't possess when he was awake. He looked almost child-like, and Anthony hated to disturb him.

Finally he rose, shaking House's shoulder. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty." House stirred in response, slowly opening his eyes. "You need to get to bed, and I need to get home."

"Right." House impulsively reached out, wrapping a hand around the back of Anthony's neck, bringing him down for a small kiss on his forehead. He released him, then rose to a sitting position, pulling his t-shirt back over his head.

He stood, stumbling briefly. "What the hell did you do, drug me?"

"Nope. That's how you're supposed to feel after a good massage." Anthony laced up his shoes and rose, moving toward the door. "Thanks for the pizza."

"Sure." House found his footing and followed close behind. "Thanks for…everything else."

"My pleasure." Anthony opened the door, suddenly feeling awkward, not sure how to respond to the brief kiss House had planted on him. "Well…good night."

"Night." House brushed Anthony's bangs out of his eyes, and he could feel those blue eyes burn through him. Finally Anthony leaned forward, pressing his lips to House's.

House seemed startled at first, freezing before relaxing into the kiss, pulling Anthony closer, deepening the kiss before finally pulling away.

Anthony arched an eyebrow at him. "Sure you haven't been smooching on guys?"

House smirked. "I never said I _never _did. It's just been…a long time."

"Okay…" Anthony snickered in response. "I'll see you around."

"See you."

House leaned on his door frame, watching the younger man leave, not closing the door until he heard the car start up and leave. For the second time in as many nights, he found himself surprised by his behavior. House knew only one thing for sure. If Anthony wanted to get together again, he was _totally _fine with it.

# # #

**I've done my thing, now be so kind as to do yours. Read and review. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**This is where I insert the usual disclaimers. I only own the O/Cs, nothing else, sadly.**

# # #

The diagnostics department was quiet the next morning, Cuddy having given the team the day off. House had come in, looking over the patient's chart, still attempting to solve the puzzle. Nothing seemed to click, and since the coroner's report would be a few weeks in coming, House finally decided to sign off on it and place it in his bottom desk drawer with a few other notable unsolved cases.

Wilson walked by, surprised to see House in his desk chair. He pushed through the door and stepped in.

"Didn't expect to see you today."

"I had a few things to do." House shrugged as he tossed his ball in the air. "Probably be heading out in a few."

"You should." Wilson nodded.

House gave him a sharp look. "Or maybe I'll catch up on the fifty years worth of clinic duty I have piled up."

"Only if you want to see Cuddy faint from shock." Wilson tilted his head in thought. "Although…that _could_ hold some entertainment value…"

"You want to do lunch?" House suddenly asked.

"What, no man-date today?"

"Saw him last night." House heaved himself out of his desk chair. "It's not like we're joined at the hip. God, that'd be weird."

Wilson paused, letting House's words sink in. "Wait a minute…I thought you…" He folded his arms over his chest. "You could have just told me, you know."

"You're right. Then we could have had this conversation last night instead of having it right now." House strode to his office door, flinging it open. "Feel free to continue hovering while you buy me lunch."

"I'm not hovering. How am I hovering?!" Wilson quickly followed House out of the office, running to catch up with him in the hallway. "Excuse me for showing an ounce of concern about you."

House stopped short, turning to face Wilson. "An _ounce_?! Jesus, Wilson…" He shook his head and turned to continue to the elevators. "Forget it. I_'_ll be in the clinic if anyone's looking for me."

"What about lunch?"

"Some other time. Got lots of clinic to do."

Wilson watched House walk away, feeling the unsteady ground of their friendship shift yet again. He debated following him, but decided he'd be better of leaving House alone for the time being. House would be back around at some point, and perhaps Wilson would find a better way to approach him then.

# # #

House stepped onto the elevator, cursing himself for snapping at Wilson. Both of them seemed to have trouble finding their footing since House's return. House trusted Wilson above all others, and putting up with Wilson's overly caring ways had always seemed a fair trade-off for that trust.

He wasn't so sure that was the case anymore. And if that wasn't, what did that mean for he and Wilson? Logically speaking, there had to be a middle ground in there somewhere. House just wished like hell he and Wilson could find it.

The elevator arrived at the ground floor, and House limped over to the clinic desk to sign in. Both the nurses regarded him suspiciously, waiting for a snarky comment from him. He made a face at them and grabbed a file from the desk, calling his first patient.

He spent the next couple of hours working the clinic, finally getting his fill of the parade of idiots that flowed through. As he was signing out, Cuddy sidled up to him.

"Nice to see you down here." Cuddy glanced at House with a puzzled look. "Odd, but nice."

"Thought I'd see if I could dig up a new case." House barely made eye contact with Cuddy as he finished signing the clipboard.

"Any luck?"

"Nope." House started toward the elevators, Cuddy hurrying to keep up behind him.

"You know…I gave your team the day off for a reason. The same reason applies to you."

House huffed and rolled his eyes. "When I don't come in, you get pissed. When I try to make a dent in my clinic hours, you chase me out of here. Make up your mind, woman!" He gave her a twisted smirk as he stepped onto the elevator.

The doors closed before Cuddy could respond. She simply shook her head and returned to her office, baffled by House's behavior. Usually getting House to do his clinic hours was like pulling teeth, only not nearly as successful. Something was going on with him, Cuddy was sure of it. She wondered what he could possibly be avoiding by hiding out in the clinic. Her phone rang, bringing her back into reality and away from thoughts of House.

# # #

Wilson was passing by House's office when he saw House packing up his backpack, as if he was getting ready to leave.

He stood at his door for a minute, trying to decide if his presence would be considered an intrusion. The noise of blinds closing startled him, and Wilson was sure he had his answer.

The office door opened, and House came striding out, backpack slung over his shoulder. He nodded at Wilson in passing.

"How long were you going to stand out there?"

"I don't know…" Wilson mumbled, embarrassed at being caught.

"I've got two words for you. Schrodinger's. Cat." House smirked at Wilson's obvious discomfort.

"What's your point?" Wilson sighed irritably.

"No point. Just saying." House seemed extraordinarily calm as they walked down the hallway. It made Wilson uneasy. They came to the elevators, Wilson preparing to return to his office.

"Hey!" House called out as Wilson was nearing his door. "Busy tonight?"

"Nothing I can't move around."

House nodded firmly. "Swing by around eight. Bring food."

Wilson chuckled to himself as he nodded in return, entering his office. It was comforting to know that some things hadn't changed. "See you later, House."

House entered the elevator, breathing a heavy sigh of relief as the doors closed. Hanging out with Wilson tonight probably meant killing any shot at getting together with Anthony. Somehow…that didn't seem like such a bad thing.

# # #

House's phone started chiming the minute he got in the apartment door and toed off his shoes. He dug the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, not bothering to check the Caller ID.

"House." He barked, a little harsher than he'd planned.

"Hey, you." Anthony's laughing voice carried through the phone.

House smiled a little. "Hey."

An awkward pause followed before Anthony spoke again. "Are you free tonight?"

House flopped onto his couch, stretching out along its length. "Sorry, no can do. Clocking some time with the Care Bear."

"Ah…Wilson, right?"

"Yeah." House smirked. "Jealous?"

"No, House." Anthony rolled his eyes on the other end of the phone. "Sounds like it'll be good for both of you."

House crinkled his brow, baffled. "So…you're okay with this."

"House." Anthony sounded mildly exasperated. "I've known you for what, three days? Somehow I don't think I've earned the right to be jealous of anything."

Anthony kind of had a point, House had to admit that. "You're alright, kid."

"Yeah, I kind of like you too." Anthony chuckled. "How's your weekend look?"

"Pretty wide open so far. I might be able to pencil you in somewhere."

"Oh, wow. Thanks."

"Of course. I don't do that for just anyone, you know."

"Right." Anthony couldn't help but smile at House's sarcasm. "So…call me later. We'll set up something."

"Sounds good." House heard pounding on the other side of his door, and he quickly limped over, opening the door and waving Wilson in. "Talk to you later. Wilson and dinner just showed up."

"Okay, talk at you later."

"Bye." House closed his phone and shoved it back in his jeans pocket.

Wilson squinted in curiosity. "Was that the man-friend?"

House rolled his eyes. "Anthony. His name's Anthony. What'd you bring me?"

"The usual." Wilson started unpacking containers.

House grabbed a container and a pair of chopsticks, digging into the noodles. "Beer's in the fridge."

"Right. I suppose you'll want one?"

"Yep." House settled back into the couch, lifting his leg onto the coffee table.

Wilson soon returned, holding out a beer to House before retiring to the other end of the couch. "So…about this Anthony."

"Not much to say." House shrugged, then threw Wilson a wide-eyed look. "Jealous?"

"Yeah, totally." Wilson shook his head. "I'm not jealous, just…" He paused, unsure how to word the next question, one that had been in his mind ever since House's first mention of Anthony. "Have you always been like this and I've just failed to notice?"

House puffed out his cheeks. He knew this would come up eventually. He'd been hoping for later, rather than sooner. "It's…complicated, and I don't feel like getting into it right now."

"Okay." Wilson nodded, somewhat mollified by House's answer. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know anyway. There was one question, however, that was eating at him. "I've just got to know one thing…"

House glared at Wilson. "Don't ask the question unless you really want the answer."

"Forget it. It wasn't that important anyway." Wilson sank back into the couch cushions while House cued up 'The L Word' on his TiVo. Time spent with his best friend, and the rituals of that friendship were far more important than any question Wilson had just then.

# # #

As the evening wore on, Wilson and House finally started settling into their old ways, and the evening ended with an inebriated Wilson falling out on House's couch.

House watched Wilson sleep, simply observing his long time best friend as he sprawled out on his couch. He was grateful that Wilson hadn't asked the tough question, the one he knew was foremost in his mind since Wilson had found out about Anthony.

_Yeah, Wilson. I thought you were cute, way back then._ House had long ago decided that his friendship with Wilson was far more important than any passing attraction he might have had to the younger doctor.

His phone chimed, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"House." He frowned as he listened to the slightly panicked voice on the other end. "Calm down. What's going on?" House nodded firmly as he scribbled down an address. "I'll be right there. Hang tight."

He scribbled a quick note to Wilson, not wanting to give him any more reason to worry about him. Soon he slipped out the door, quietly locking it behind him. This was one trip he definitely didn't want Wilson tagging along for.

# # #

Anthony's head was throbbing as he held the ice pack to his forehead, groaning slightly when he spotted the tall figure quickly limping to the small crowd gathered outside the club.

"See, I _told_ you he'd show." A throaty voice spoke next to him as an elegant hand lightly smacked Anthony in the arm.

"Fine, you were right." Anthony started to pace nervously as House approached, suddenly wishing he hadn't called the older man. If it hadn't been for his friend's insistence…

"What happened?" House snapped, studying Anthony's face. He pulled a penlight out of his jacket pocket.

"Ow…I'm fine, just got into a scuffle with a couple of frat boys." Anthony winced at the bright light in his eyes.

House inspected him, noting the cut lip and already blackening eye. "No concussion…you hurt anywhere else? And don't bother lying. If you called me out here for nothing…"

"It wasn't my idea." Anthony snapped, glaring at his friend. "_Someone _seemed to think I needed to be rescued."

"Oh, please." House glanced over at the sound of the voice. Something didn't quite fit, and he soon realized why when the figure extended a hand. "Miss Sondra. _Lovely _to meet you. You're a handsome one."

"Uh…thanks?" House wasn't quite sure what to think. He turned back to Anthony. "Seriously, anything else hurt?"

Anthony shook his head. "Just my pride, and that'll recover." He dropped his head, avoiding House's eyes. "You didn't have to come."

"No, I didn't." House jangled his keys. "Need a ride?"

Miss Sandra nudged Anthony. "Take him up on it. If you don't…I might."

"Okay, okay." Anthony gently pushed Miss Sondra away and followed House.

"Oh, no you don't." Miss Sondra pulled Anthony in for a quick hug, whispering in his ear. "Why don't you let someone take care of you for a change, hmm?"

"I'll think about it."

Anthony felt something tap him on the calf. "Don't have all night." House grumbled.

"Right." Anthony extricated himself from Miss Sondra's grip and followed House to his car.

"Where to?"

Anthony gave House the address, and the pair rode in silence, Anthony occasionally giving House directions. House pulled up in front of Anthony's building, parking and shutting off the car.

"So…you going to tell me what really happened tonight?"

"Just a little bar fight. It's no big deal."

"Your…friend seemed to think it was." House glanced over at Anthony.

"She's a drama queen. It wasn't that serious." Anthony started to get out of the car, frustrated with House's prodding. "Thanks for the ride and everything."

"Sure." House knew something wasn't right, but he didn't have the energy to dig deeper tonight. "See you around."

"Yeah." Anthony sighed, pausing before he climbed out of the car. "You know, it's kind of funny. I'm used to being the rescuer, not the rescuee."

"Don't get used to it. This isn't my usual thing either."

Anthony laughed shortly, shaking his head. "You're a real charmer, you know that? I'll see you."

House smiled briefly before fixing Anthony with a serious expression, reaching across to take his hand, brushing along the back of it with his thumb. He let go just as quickly as he had taken it, averting his eyes. "I should go."

Anthony nodded. "Okay. Still free this weekend?"

"Probably."

Anthony stepped out of the car, trotting up the front steps and into his building. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he heard House's car start up and drive away. As much as he liked the guy, he didn't want to make the mistake of getting too close too soon. That path led to disaster, he already knew that. Just this once, he wanted to take his time and get to know this enigmatic creature called House.

# # #

House let himself into his apartment, trying not to wake Wilson. Not that it mattered, since Wilson was already sitting up, blinking drowsily, mumbling to himself.

"Where've you been?"

House smirked. "Out on a rescue mission, if you can believe that."

Wilson nodded sagely. "Ah, the tables have been turned."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." House rolled his eyes and limped toward the kitchen. "You want one more?"

"Nah, I should go. Early morning meeting." Wilson heaved himself to his feet and shuffled to the door. "See you when you get there."

"Night, Wilson."

House paced around his apartment after Wilson left, feeling decidedly unsettled. Part of him wanted to run right back over to Anthony's, wanting to feel that rush again. The rest of him wasn't so sure. He was falling into a pattern that he wanted to break, a pattern of too fast, too soon.

He was puzzled by Anthony's behavior, and he was curious about what had really happened at the club. It had to be more than a simple bar fight.

Finally his curiosity won out, and he found himself on his bike, flying through the streets of Princeton, pulling up in front of Anthony's. The light was still on in his apartment, but that could mean anything.

He took off his helmet, scrubbing his hand over his head, drumming his fingers nervously. The last time he had pulled a stunt like this, it hadn't ended so well.

But this was different. It had to be. House dismounted his bike and limped to the door, entering the building and finding Anthony's apartment. He took a deep breath and tapped on the door with his cane.

# # #

**You know what to do from here. Read and review, please, and thank you for you support so far. It means a lot to me. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Finally back with another chapter. I don't own House, just the O/C boys.**

# # #

Anthony was just getting settled on his couch when he heard the unfamiliar knock at the door. The knocking persisted as he slowly rolled himself off the couch and shuffled to the door.

He peeked through his peephole to see House standing there. Well, not exactly _standing_. He seemed to be a bundle of nervous energy, tapping his cane on the floor and glancing around.

Anthony opened the door just as House was raising his cane to knock a third time. He leaned against the door frame as House lowered his cane. The older man seemed to be studying him, analyzing him. It was disconcerting, but there was also something incredibly attractive about the way House's intense blue eyes searched his face.

"You going to come in, or are you going to stand out there all night?" Anthony folded his arms over his chest.

House's expression changed almost imperceptibly, going from merely searching to something…softer. He quietly stepped over the threshold, glancing around the apartment. A large 'Star Trek' movie poster took up one wall, and other sci-fi memorabilia were scattered around the living room. House lightly touched a model of the USS Enterprise, a pensive expression taking over his face.

"Something wrong?" Anthony followed House, keeping his distance as House rambled around his living room.

House twisted his mouth into a half smile. "Nah…all this sci-fi stuff…it just reminds me of someone, that's all."

"Good? Bad?"

"Both." The single word came out harshly. House thumped his cane on the wood floor, hanging his head. "This sounded like a really great idea twenty minutes ago."

Anthony quietly came up behind House, placing his hands on his upper arms. The older man tensed, but didn't say anything. He finally turned around, meeting Anthony's green eyes with his own, brushing his cheek with one rough thumb.

"I shouldn't want this." House whispered roughly.

"Says who?"

House fell silent again, shaking his head, clearly conflicted. "Doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters." Anthony stepped a little closer, enveloping House in his arms.

House finally seemed to relax, wrapping his arms around Anthony, setting his chin on his shoulder. Anthony's clean, distinctly masculine scent filled his nostrils, uniquely enticing, and House tentatively placed a light kiss on the younger man's neck.

"It doesn't matter…not anymore." House lifted his head, finally daring to look Anthony in the eye. He moved a hand to the back of his neck, tracing his hairline with his thumb. "Jesus, you look like hell."

"I'm fine. Quit fussing."

House glared at him. "I don't _fuss._"

Anthony gave House a halfhearted smile. "Well, whatever it is you're not doing…stop it." He ran his fingers through House's rough gray hair.

House closed his eyes at the sensation, pulling Anthony in, daring to slip a hand under his t-shirt. He could feel the muscle underneath as the younger man took in a brief ragged breath. Anthony slid his hands around House's waist, gently pulling him toward the couch.

Anthony landed with a soft thump, pulling House with him. The smell of his leather jacket overwhelmed Anthony's senses, and he shoved it off House's shoulders while House managed to shake it off the rest of the way, the jacket landing on the floor. House leaned in, bracing himself against the couch with one hand, gently tracing Anthony's jaw with a small line of kisses leading to his throat. He could feel House's scruff scrape against his neck as House kept moving toward his collarbone.

With his free hand, House once again slid under Anthony's shirt, spreading out along his ribcage. He could feel Anthony's breath catch under his hand, and House thought he heard the tiniest whimper from him.

House's eyes immediately flew open, and he pushed himself off Anthony, the doctor in him taking over. "Pull up your shirt." Anthony seemed reluctant, and House huffed in exasperation. "I know, it's not the context I had in mind either. Now pull it up."

Anthony finally pulled up his t-shirt, revealing the extent of his injury. His right side was starting to develop bruises directly over his ribs where House had laid his hand. House gently pressed his hand over Anthony's ribcage, examining him, frowning in concentration.

"I don't think anything's broken." House calmly removed his hand, gently tugging Anthony's shirt back down over his body. He fixed him with a sharp glare. "Why the hell didn't you stop me?!"

Anthony placed a hand on House's cheek, feeling the roughness under his palm. "Seriously? I can't believe you're asking me that."

"So your self-preservation instinct is non-existent. Okay." House reached up to touch the hand that still lay on his cheek.

"Noo…" Anthony leaned on House, gently pressing him down on the couch. "Maybe I find you so damned attractive that the pain didn't matter."

"You're so full of shit." House grumbled, even as he was flattered by Anthony's words.

Anthony chuckled, softly kissing House on the lips. He tasted slightly of beer and Chinese food. Normally, it wouldn't seem like such an appealing combination, but on House…it seemed to work. "Don't care. It's true."

House looked up at him, one arm flung over his head, the other running through Anthony's hair and trailing down his face. Even with the black eye and fat lip, he was an attractive man. It created a conflict deep within House, one that must have shown on his face.

"I swear, you say one word about my hair…" Anthony attempted to lighten the mood with his lame joke.

"I don't want to hurt you." House suddenly blurted out.

Anthony moved so that he lay on House's chest, looking at him intently. "You're not hurting me."

"I don't mean right now, I mean…" House closed his eyes, remembering Cuddy's words to him all those months ago. "I hurt people who get too close to me."

Anthony looked pained as he tenderly caressed the deep lines in House's forehead. "And what makes you think I'd let you?"

"Hello…how long were we making out before I found your busted up ribs?" House shifted slightly to meet Anthony's eyes. "And you weren't even going to tell me you were hurting."

"Emotional pain and physical pain are not the same thing." Anthony left a trail of kisses down House's cheek, ending at his jaw near his ear. "Believe me, I'd ditch you in a heartbeat if you hurt me that way. And you didn't do this to me."

House still looked reluctant to give up the argument. "Somewhere down the line, I probably will hurt you that way. You might want to consider getting out while you still can."

"It's a chance I'm willing to take." Anthony gently kissed House's neck, inhaling the hint of whatever woodsy scent was there.

House gently wrapped his arms around the younger man, holding him close and letting out a soft exhale. Something about this whole thing just felt…right. "Brave or crazy…sounds like the jury's still out on that one."

Anthony smiled against House's chest. "How about this…you be brave, I'll be crazy. Maybe we'll switch it up later."

House chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated against Anthony's head. "You can have crazy. I've already been there and done that."

"Right. Sorry. I should have known better than to say that."

"All good." House could feel himself getting drowsy. "I'm…feeling better about it now."

"Good." Anthony settled in against House. "Believe it or not…I don't want to hurt you, either."

"That's good to know." House shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, still holding Anthony to his chest. "I think I'm fading. One way or another, I've got to get off this couch."

"Up to you whether you want to stay or go. I'm okay with whatever you choose."

House briefly felt fear clutch at him. He had already thrown caution to the wind by coming here in the first place, and he didn't know what would happen if he stayed.

Anthony felt House's heartbeat speed up at his words, and lifted his head to look up at him. "Relax. It's late and I'm a little…worn out. I wouldn't be up for anything anyway."

House couldn't help but snort at Anthony's blunt words. "Get out of my head, boy." He gently nudged Anthony, and the young man rolled off him as House pushed himself to a sitting position, rubbing his leg.

Anthony looked concerned, and House waved him off. "Head on. I'm fine. Just stayed in one spot too long, that's all."

"Okay. I'll be back."

He soon returned with a pair of lounge pants, tossing them to House. House caught them with a wicked smirk. "I've known you less than a week and I'm already wearing your clothes. How cute."

Anthony rolled his eyes, secretly pleased to see the lighter side of House. "Bathroom's down the hall, first door on the left. Bedroom's at the end. See you when you get there."

"Oh, I'll be there." House smiled to himself as he rose from the couch, finding his cane and stumbling slightly to the hallway. Funny, he didn't remember dropping it at any point. He must have been more distracted by Anthony than he thought. Not that it was a bad thing. No, not at all.

# # #

Anthony was already stretched out in the bed, eyes closed, when House limped in. He turned out the light and slipped in, laying on his back, keeping some distance between himself and Anthony. Despite Anthony's earlier assertion, there was a world of difference between sharing a couch and sharing a bed. It was a line that he hadn't crossed in years, and it felt like an old song that he had forgotten the words to.

Anthony shifted, scooting closer to House, and taking his hand. "You didn't run out on me."

"Nope." House quickly squeezed Anthony's hand in the dark. "I'd probably crash the bike if I tried to drive home. Might as well stay."

"It's your story. Tell it however you want." Anthony squeezed back before turning on his side, his back to House. He didn't want to admit it to House, but it had been damned lonely rattling around this apartment by himself for so long. Sure, he had friends, close friends, and he certainly could have had his pick of nighttime company if he so chose, but that wasn't what he was after.

He felt House shift next to him, and he soon felt House's arm around his waist, his warm breath against the back of his neck. God, this just felt so…_right_. Anthony sighed contentedly and placed his hand on top of House's.

The unexpected contact surprised House, and he nearly pulled away, not wanting to show any more vulnerability than he already had. It had been years, literally years since he'd been in such close contact with anyone. He didn't think he'd ever admit just how deeply his loneliness ran. Hell, he hadn't realized it himself until fairly recently.

Was it simple desperation, then, that drove him here? House didn't think so, but suddenly he found himself less sure than ever that he was here for the right reasons. Still…he couldn't think of anything about this situation that felt intrinsically _wrong_. If anything, it felt pretty damn good.

No, this wasn't desperation. House knew desperation, knew pain. They had been close companions of his from an early age. What he didn't know was how to simply be content with things as they were. Contentment was always the enemy, always something to fight against, and House was tired of fighting.

House relaxed against Anthony, softly kissing the back of his neck, allowing a bit of that content feeling to sink in. It would take a lot of getting used to, but House thought he'd be able to manage it. Maybe.

"You okay back there?" Anthony mumbled.

"Trying to be."

"Anything I can do?"

"Nope." House curled himself around Anthony, taking in his scent.

Anthony smiled sleepily as he felt House tighten his grip on him. "Alright, then. Night, House."

"Greg."

"What?" Anthony was a little sleepy and a lot confused.

House huffed loudly. "I'd say we can be on a first name basis, seeing as we're sleeping together and everything."

Anthony chuckled at House's simple assessment. "Fine. Night, Greg."

"Night, Tony."

The use of his nickname was a pleasant surprise, and Anthony assumed it indicated a certain level of trust on House's part. It was a trust he had no intention of breaking, as long as he had any say in it.

# # #

The sounds and smells of brewing coffee awakened House immediately the next morning, and he was briefly disoriented by his surroundings. He blinked his eyes, focusing his eyes on the watch he had neglected to take off last night.

_7:30. Jesus, leave it to me to hook up with an early bird. If he's a cheery morning person, I might have to kill him._ House rolled over in a vain attempt to go back to sleep, tossing and turning briefly before giving up and rolling out of bed.

He grabbed his cane and limped heavily down the hallway, following his nose to the kitchen. Anthony was already showered and dressed, sipping on his cup of coffee as he wandered around the apartment preparing for the day. He looked up when he heard House stagger in.

Anthony smirked a little when he saw House. He looked more rumpled than ever, and he glowered as he leaned on his cane.

"Which way to the coffee?" House grumbled. "I can smell it, I know it's around here somewhere…"

"Kitchen's that way." Anthony pointed in the general direction. "Mugs are in the cabinet above the sink."

House nodded briefly before turning toward the kitchen. He soon returned with a steaming mug, setting it down on the coffee table before easing himself onto the couch.

His eyes followed Anthony around the living room, watching him pack up a messenger bag. "Going somewhere?"

Anthony nodded. "I already called Simon. He's going to drop me off at my car, then it's off to work."

"Right. Mister 'Magic Fingers'." House grinned over his cup of coffee, recalling the feel of Anthony's hands working on him. "Who's Simon?"

"Old friend of mine. You met him as Miss Sondra."

House nearly spit out his coffee. "Shit, seriously?"

Anthony snickered at House's reaction. "Pretty convincing, isn't he?"

"I knew 'she' wasn't a she. Jesus, I'm not an idiot."

"Sure you didn't." Anthony smirked. "Do you want some of that coffee to go?"

"Are you trying to chase me out of here?"

"Nope. I just always fill a travel mug for myself. Figured you'd like one, too."

"Only if you've got something spillproof. I don't need coffee all over my backpack."

Anthony pondered this. "I think I've got just the thing." He soon emerged with a stainless steel mug with a screw-on lid, and turned it over to demonstrate. "There you go. It should keep it drinkable for a couple of hours, too."

"Well damn." House seemed pleased. "Don't be surprised if you don't get it back."

"Just bring it back for the occasional fill-up. That'll be payment enough."

"I plan on it." House's face turned serious as he sipped his coffee. "If that's okay with you, that is."

Anthony strode over to House, leaning down for a quick kiss. "Totally fine by me."

House set down his coffee cup, placing a hand around Anthony's neck for a deeper kiss.

"Mmm…oww…" Anthony winced when House pressed on his still-painful lip.

"Sorry." House looked a bit embarrassed. "Forgot about your fat lip."

"No problem." Anthony laughed. "I guess I did, too."

A knock on the door cut their next kiss short, and Anthony rose to answer. Simon breezed in the moment he opened the door, grabbing Anthony in a quick hug.

"Not interrupting, am I?"

"Nope, not at all." Anthony crossed the room to take his coffee mug to the kitchen.

"Well, dammit." Simon seemed almost disappointed as he flopped down next to House. "Nice to see you…again."

"I know. Tony already told me." House smirked at Simon's attempt to rile him.

"Ooh…calling him Tony already?" Simon's eyes lit up with interest. "Lovely, just lovely." He leaned in a little closer to House, placing a hand upon his knee. "He's a dear, sweet man. If you hurt him…so help me, I will snatch what little hair you have out of your handsome little head."

House fixed Simon with a steely look, nodding in response. "All I can say is that I'll do my damnedest not to hurt him. Trust me, it's the last thing I want to do."

"Good." Simon rose from the couch. "For the record, I'm glad you came after him last night. He was more of a mess than he let on. Those boys really worked him over good."

House growled as he finished his coffee. "I knew there was more than what he was telling." He rose from the couch, making his way to the kitchen, running into Anthony on the way.

"Hey, going somewhere?"

House placed his hand on Anthony's cheek, examining his face. "Just going to get dressed and head home before I go in."

He soon reemerged, shoving the travel mug into his backpack, looking around for his jacket. Simon stood in front of the couch, smirking as he held it in one hand.

"Looking for this?"

House glared at Simon as he limped over and snatched it from his hand. "Yeah, _thanks_." He pulled it on, zipping it up while grabbing his backpack and helmet, turning to Anthony. "Talk to you later."

"I'll see you out." Anthony slung his bag over his shoulder, Simon following the pair out of the apartment.

House mounted the bike, shoving his helmet over his head and buckling it under his chin. Anthony hung back, unsure about any public displays of affection.

That doubt was resolved when House pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Maybe later you can tell me about your little 'bar fight'."

Anthony rolled his eyes. "I already told you, it was nothing."

"That's not the story I'm getting." House glared at him.

"Simon's got a big mouth." Anthony looked annoyed at the interference.

"That's not really for me to say, but he does like to talk."

Simon honked the horn, startling them both. Anthony sighed, briefly taking House's hand. "Guess I'd better get going. Call me later?"

"No promises." House squeezed Anthony's hand briefly before releasing it. "Depends on what's waiting for me when I get there."

"Okay…well…I'll see you when I see you. Still up for something this weekend?"

"Yeah. We'll figure it out."

"Cool." Anthony grinned as he turned toward Simon's waiting car. "See ya."

House nodded, then slammed the visor down on his helmet and started the bike. Things had gone far better than he could have imagined, and it looked like they were only going to get better. He gave his bike an extra rev as he took off, tires squealing as he flew down the street.

Yes, life was…if not good, then definitely getting there. That seemed like enough right now.

# # #

**Thank you to all of you for your reviews and such. I appreciate them greatly. Now give me some more. :D Push the button.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and otherwise shown your love. I do read them all, and I appreciate them. As usual, I don't own anything House-related. **

# # #

Simon watched House fly down the street as Anthony walked back to the car, a dopey grin on his face. He shook his head, clicking his tongue as Anthony climbed in.

Anthony regarded him with great amusement. "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, you _know_ what's on my mind." Simon grinned wickedly before starting the car and heading down the street.

"I mean _besides_ that." Anthony rolled his eyes. "You're such a dog."

"Well…he's still pretty damn hot, even in broad daylight." Simon pondered. "He's kind of got that rough-and-tumble thing going on. And those eyes! Are those for real?!"

"As far as I know." Anthony chuckled. He had wondered the same thing himself. "Seriously…you've met him a couple times, and you know I wouldn't ask your opinion unless I really wanted it."

Simon looked thoughtful as he finally took Anthony's statement seriously. "He's…interesting."

Anthony's head hit the headrest. "Yeah, thanks. You've been a world of help."

"What the hell do you want me to say?" Simon pulled into the parking lot of the nightclub and parked next to Anthony's car. "Most guys you've been with, I know from our little scene. I've never even heard of your doctor friend."

"And that worries you."

"Of course it does, honey." Simon turned to Anthony and placed a hand over his. "Look, he seems like a decent sort of guy. I mean, he _did_ come running to your rescue, and it seems like he took good care of you, am I right?"

"Not in the way you think. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Mm-hm. I saw the way he looked at you. Trust me, it won't be long. How anyone can resist you is beyond me." Simon smiled and gave Anthony a hug. "I only want what's best for you, okay? If that old blue-eyed hottie is it, well then…I've got nothing more to say."

Anthony smiled as he returned the hug. For all his silliness, Simon was a good hearted man. "Thanks. I knew there was a reason I've kept you around all these years."

Simon laughed as he pulled away. "And here I thought it was my charm, good looks, and general fabulosity."

"Well, yeah, that too." Anthony climbed out of the car. "Seriously, thanks for everything."

"Oh, anytime, honey." Simon waved him away. "I'm always here for you, you know that. See you later."

"Bye." Anthony closed the car door and headed for his own. He glanced around the parking lot, any traces of last night's altercation long gone. If Simon hadn't been right behind him, things might have ended very differently.

Anthony sighed as he climbed in his car. He had a feeling that House wouldn't really rest until he heard the whole story of the incident. Anthony just wasn't sure he was ready to share it. It could…change things between him and House, and not in a good way.

# # #

House settled into his office that morning, pulling the travel mug out of his backpack. True to Anthony's word, the mug not only hadn't sprung a leak, but the coffee was still warm. He cracked a small smile as he slowly sipped the strong brew. Anthony's coffee alone might be enough to keep House coming back.

Foreman popped in, startled by the uncharacteristic smile on his boss's face. He arched an eyebrow as he walked in, handing House a file.

"Cuddy handed us a new case this morning." Foreman gave House a questioning look. "Is Wilson dosing you again?"

House rolled his eyes and took the file from Foreman's outstretched hand. "Hot date last night. Lasted until this morning." He casually flipped open the file, pulling his glasses out of his shirt pocket to take a closer look.

"We're just going to…get started. If that's alright with you, of course."

House waved Foreman away. "Sure, sounds good."

Foreman finally shook his head and walked away, pushing through the office door and into the hallway, nearly running into Wilson. He briefly tapped Wilson on the shoulder.

"Something's up with House. He was…smiling when I walked in, then mentioned something about a hot date. Is he okay?"

Wilson wrinkled his brow in concern. "Smiling, huh? Sounds serious."

Foreman huffed and folded his arms over his chest, arching an eyebrow. "This _is_ House we're talking about. That man hasn't shown signs of happiness…ever. It's just odd. That's all."

Wilson nodded. It wasn't as if Foreman's concern wasn't justified, but Wilson suspected there was more to the story. House might have deflected just to get Foreman off his case, on the other hand…

"I'll drop in on him. I was going to talk to him anyway."

Foreman looked visibly relieved. "Thanks. It's just…you know."

Wilson nodded in understanding. Somehow they had all missed the signs leading to House's downward spiral, and nobody wanted to see that happen again, no matter what an ass he was. If that made everyone a little paranoid, well, so be it.

House spotted the two men talking outside his office, and he got the odd feeling of being under observation. He twisted his mouth in irritation, limping his way to the office door and shoving it open.

"Look, I know I'm an endlessly fascinating topic of conversation, but really. At least one of you has a job to do."

Foreman gave Wilson a meaningful glance before turning toward the elevators. Wilson turned to speak to House, but the older doctor had already disappeared into his office.

Wilson immediately followed, not allowing himself to be distracted by House's deflecting ways. House glared at him as he sat down at his desk, taking a long drink from the travel mug. "You're stalking me again."

"I'm not stalking you. According to Foreman, you were smiling. He was justifiably concerned." Wilson noticed the travel mug. "Is that new?"

"Free gift from Hotel Anthony. Stay one night, get a free mug." House waggled his eyebrows. "Can't wait to see what I get for a second night."

Wilson blinked in surprise. He couldn't tell if House was screwing with him or not. "Are you serious? Because if you're just screwing with me…"

"Shh…not in front of the kids." House stage whispered as Taub and Thirteen walked into the office. "What have you got?"

"Blood work was inconclusive. Ultrasound showed some possible growths, but we'll need an MRI to confirm." Taub handed the results to House.

"Well…what are you waiting for?" House glared over his glasses at the two doctors. "Get on it."

Taub rolled his eyes. "It's not a golf game. You can't just play through to the MRI."

"Yeah, yeah." House waved his hand around irritably. "Find something else in the meantime. Daddy and Uncle Jimmy need to have a little chat."

Taub and Thirteen returned to the conference room to further discuss the patient, and House returned to his desk, easing himself into the chair and turning to his computer, seeming to ignore Wilson.

"House?" Wilson placed his hands on his hips, waiting for them to pick up the conversation where they left off.

"What?" House took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair.

"Nothing. Never mind." Wilson shook his head and started to walk away.

"It's never 'nothing' with you. What do you want?"

Wilson didn't know where to start. It was going to be an awkward conversation, no matter when or how it started. Finally he decided to just get on with it. "Did you…you know…whatever…"

House couldn't help but smirk at Wilson's discomfort. "Jesus, man, spit it out already. I don't have all day."

His pager went off as Wilson started to speak. "Never mind. Guess you'll have to stutter at me later."

He picked up his cane and quickly limped out of the office, leaving a flustered Wilson behind. Wilson ran his hand through his hair, settling on the back of his neck. Why this whole thing was getting to him, he had no idea. If House was some version of happy, that should be good enough. The fact that it was with a man, though, kind of threw Wilson for a loop.

Right now, Wilson had more important things to attend to. Eventually, he'd catch up to House and get this thing figured out. Maybe. Hell, anything was possible these days, it seemed.

# # #

By the time House made it to the ICU, the team already had the patient stabilized. The three of them were gathered just outside, discussing the most recent developments amongst themselves.

"So, what'd I miss this time?"

"Respiratory failure." Thirteen spoke up first. "His throat closed up the minute we started IV steroids."

House rolled his eyes in exasperation. "And who's the one who thought steroids were a good idea?"

"I did." Foreman folded his arms over his chest. "As the patient's attending, I thought it was an appropriate call."

"Who died and made you this guy's attending?"

"I'm still in charge until Cuddy says otherwise."

House glared at Foreman, leaning on his cane. "Well…you were wrong. Once again, you've proved why my name's on the door, not yours. Hell, I wouldn't trust you to be a dog's attending."

"House…" Taub started to move forward, sensing that things were about to escalate.

"What?!" House snapped at Taub, his ice blue eyes flashing at him. "You went along with him. You're no better. Jesus, did I hire nothing but idiots?"

"As a matter of fact, I disagreed with Foreman." Taub met House's eyes, not blinking. "He overruled me."

"Excuse me." A soft voice interrupted them. "Can someone tell me what's happening to my son?"

The four of them turned as one, and House spoke first, gesturing at Foreman. "Talk to this guy. He's your son's attending. Anything goes wrong, blame him."

House quickly limped away, leaving the team and the patient's mother in appalled shock.

"House!" Thirteen ran after him, finally catching up to him near the elevator. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing." House was the picture of calm as he waited for the elevator. "Just need to have a chat with _my_ boss, that's all."

"Look, I know Foreman's being kind of a…"

"Doesn't matter." House spoke so quietly that Thirteen nearly missed it. The elevator dinged, and House stepped on, never making eye contact with Thirteen.

House was merely Thirteen's boss, but she still felt badly for him. It wasn't even that Foreman was doing a bad job. Their styles were just completely different. No wonder the two men clashed constantly.

The constant push and pull had to be taking its toll on House. Thirteen knew it was taking a lot out of her. She kind of wished that Cuddy would just officially hand the reins back over to House. Things seemed to go a lot smoother when one person was in charge. Personally, she'd prefer if that one person were House.

# # #

Cuddy looked up when House entered her office. He was oddly quiet, and it unnerved her. She set aside the paperwork she was working her way through to give him her full attention.

"Got a minute?"

Cuddy nodded. "Of course."

House took a seat in front of Cuddy's desk, tapping his cane on the floor. He wasn't sure where he wanted to start. All he knew was that he wanted his department back, _now_.

Cuddy waited, watching House's face. He appeared deep in thought, and while Cuddy hated to bother him, he was in _her_ office.

"I assume you're here for a reason."

House lifted his head to meet Cuddy's eyes. "Foreman's an idiot."

Cuddy sat back in her chair. "Look, I know that the two of you don't exactly see eye-to-eye on things, but…you're on probation, and Foreman's officially in charge for that time frame. That's the agreement we reached with the board, and that's how it's going to be."

"Does that also mean I have to go along with whatever bullshit treatment idea he comes up with?"

Cuddy gave him a cutting look. "Does he always go along with you?"

"He should." House's mouth twisted in a tiny smirk.

"But he doesn't." Cuddy smiled briefly. "And he shouldn't, any more than you should just go along with his." She shifted in her chair and leaned forward. "Look, you know this is all administrative in nature. I don't give a damn who treats the patient, as long as the treatment is successful. You should know that."

House nodded, a somber expression crossing his face. Cuddy was right, of course. Results mattered, not politics, and that was all this really came down to.

Cuddy tilted her head, watching House process her words. "Anything else?"

"Nope." House pushed himself out of the chair, heading for the office door. "I'd better get back. No telling what the kids are doing without me."

"Right." Cuddy watched him go, still not convinced things were any better. She trusted Foreman to be her eyes and ears, and since he hadn't come to her yet, she had no choice but to believe that things were reasonably okay. She sighed and returned to her mountain of paperwork, pushing her doubts to the back of her mind…for now, at least.

# # #

Wilson was emerging from the clinic around the same time House was exiting Cuddy's office, and they found themselves waiting for the elevator leading them back to the fourth floor.

"Ah, back to hounding Cuddy." Wilson commented casually. "Seems like old times."

House shrugged. "The twins missed me. I could tell."

"Didn't think that was your thing anymore." The words seemed to fall out of Wilson's mouth before he could stop them.

House merely raised an eyebrow. "Thought you were okay with the whole Anthony thing."

"I thought I was, too." Wilson sighed a little as the two friends stepped onto the elevator. Fortunately, they were alone in the car. "It's just…the whole time we've been friends, I've never known you as anything but straight. It just messes with my perception of you, that's all."

House was silent, leaning heavily on his cane. This was exactly why he had never openly expressed any attraction he might have had for Wilson when they first met. He was pretty sure that they never would have been friends otherwise. "You're still my friend, Wilson. That hasn't changed. You won't get rid of me that easily."

Wilson couldn't help but laugh a little. God knows, he had tried to get rid of House, but had never quite succeeded. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad to share the load."

"Well, yeah. Obviously I can't count on you for _everything._" House waggled his eyebrows mockingly.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Slipping into TMI territory, there. I could care less about your sex life, whichever way it goes."

"Good thing there isn't one to speak of yet, then." House smirked as they exited the elevator. "But when there is…"

"Feel free to tell your therapist." Wilson's mouth quirked in a small smile.

"Ow, that hurt." House clutched his chest. "See, this is why I don't tell you anything. You just blow me off."

Wilson shook his head and headed for his office. The friendly banter was a welcome relief after all the recent awkwardness. It almost seemed like old times, except for the small fact that his best friend was apparently into guys. Wilson should have been more surprised than he was, but then again, nothing much about House came as a surprise anymore. At least he was alive and functioning, and that alone seemed like a small miracle, one that Wilson would gratefully take.

# # #

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	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks once again to all of you that have reviewed my story. Special shout-outs to those of you who have reviewed anonymously. I can't reply to them, but I do read them. Usual disclaimers apply..I don't own House, blah, blah, blah.**

# # #

When House returned to the conference room, the team was actively discussing the case. He decided to slip in and listen, just to see how they worked without him.

Thirteen turned around immediately when he walked in, and three sets of eyes swiveled to face him. So much for the ninja approach. House leaned against the door, gesturing for them to continue.

Foreman looked a bit uncomfortable as he scribbled symptoms on the board. In times past, when he'd had to play babysitter to House, House had made damn sure to make his life as miserable as he could. This time he seemed to take a different approach, hanging back and allowing the team to take the differential in what they deemed to be the necessary direction, only interjecting when they ventured far off the path.

After much discussion, Thirteen's eyes lit up with an idea. She and Taub ran off to start the test and treatment, once again leaving Foreman alone with House.

House leaned against the glass wall, twirling his cane, deep in thought. Foreman folded his arms across his chest in a defensive pose, waiting for House to berate him or otherwise verbally abuse him.

He finally looked up to catch Foreman's eye, setting the tip of his cane on the floor. "Talked to Cuddy today."

"Is that right?" Foreman was a little nervous, but damned if he'd let House see that.

"Yep. Told her you were an idiot."

"Naturally." Foreman rolled his eyes in response and returned to the whiteboard. "Let me know when this gets interesting."

"It's about to." House pushed himself away from the wall to lean on his cane. "After telling me to suck it up, she told me that she didn't…how did she put it? Oh yeah." He posed like Cuddy, mimicking her vocal style, one hand on his hip. "'I don't give a damn _who_ treats the patient, as long as it's successful.'"

Foreman hid a smirk as he scribbled on the whiteboard. "So what's your point?"

Now it was House's turn to roll his eyes. "Come on, genius. Keep up. My point is…this whole 'keep-me-in-line' thing is just on paper. It's just to keep the board happy. Theoretically…I can run things…without running things."

Foreman turned, his face scrunched up in befuddlement. "So let me get this straight. You do all the usual off-the-wall stuff, and if it works, you get the glory. If it doesn't, I get the blame. Am I right?"

"No, you moron." House glared at Foreman. "You get it all, the glory and the blame. Call me…a silent partner, if you will."

Foreman pondered the idea. He had to admit, it had a bit of merit. It would allow House the freedom to work his way, while giving everyone else the illusion that Foreman was actually running things. "What the hell, it's only for a while, right? Not like I'll be doing this forever."

"Thought you'd see it my way." House grinned slightly. "And…you get to see Cuddy and the twins every time I…I mean…_you _want to do something crazy like take out a chunk of someone's brain. It's brilliant."

"Yeah…except Cuddy lets you get away with things she'd never let me do."

"That's only because I wasn't around. I'll back you up...most of the time. Unless you want to do something really idiotic."

The extension for the conference room rang, ending their conversation. Foreman hit the speakerphone button. "What's the word?"

Taub's voice carried throughout the room. "It worked. Fever's dropping, latest blood work looks clean."

Foreman and House nodded at each other, a grudging respect passing between the two men. "Nice work. Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't have any reactions, and report back." Foreman called out before finishing the conversation and hanging up.

House scrubbed his hand over his head. "Two cases in one week. Can't speak for you, but I'm beat."

"I'll hang out and finish things up if you want to take off." Foreman offered. "You want to look over the chart before I sign off on it?"

"Yeah, throw it on my desk before you leave. I'll look it over in the morning."

Foreman nodded. "Hey, House?"

"Yeah?"

"It's…good to have you back. The place just wasn't the same without you."

House shrugged, a little uncomfortable with Foreman's words. "Yeah, well…"

"Seriously." Foreman's eyes bored into House. "I'm a little out of my league, you know, running the show."

House rolled his eyes, limping over to Foreman, staring at him with a frightening intensity. "You've got the skills. You just need the balls. Tell Thirteen to give them back to you already." He turned and started to head into his office, stopping as he approached the door. "It's like anything else. The more you do it, chances are…the better you get at it."

Foreman watched House push his way through the door, surprised by House's almost kindly behavior. It wasn't like House to give advice, support, whatever the hell it was. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not. It was different, that was for damn sure. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. Clearly he still had a lot to learn from House.

# # #

House briefly considered going home, but it was kind of early yet, and he still didn't know whether his patient was going to recover for sure. He finally decided to pull some clinic duty, killing a couple of birds with one stone. Not only would he clear some of his backlog of hours, but it would keep Cuddy guessing as to his reasons.

He rode the elevator down and signed in, running into Thirteen at the desk. Clearly she had the same idea he did. House nodded to her as he signed in.

"Where's the Lollipop Guild president?" House asked with a smirk. "Thought he'd find his way down here, too."

"He's with the patient." Thirteen replied, a smile playing around her feline features. "What are you doing here? I figured you'd be the first to fly out of here."

House rolled his eyes. "I've got years of clinic hours to make up. That, and it's a great excuse to screw with Cuddy."

"I'm sure she missed that when you were gone."

"Damn straight." House grinned as he took a file. "Someone's got to keep that woman on her toes. Might as well be me."

Thirteen shook her head, amused by House's comments. It was good to see House get back in his groove. Whatever was happening outside of work, it was clearly helping. It was a hell of a lot better than he had been months ago, when he seemed like a man haunted by something no one could define.

They passed each other in the clinic, commenting on the never ending parade of freaks and idiots that passed through. Finally there was a break in the action, and House took the opportunity to sign out.

Thirteen watched him go, and noticed him run into a young man in the lobby. The two started chatting, the other man setting down a portable massage table. House seemed to know him, and he was…smiling, even touching the other man.

When the other man gave him a quick hug, everything clicked for Thirteen. She broke into a wide grin, picking up another file and calling her next patient. _Whatever works for you, House. Who the hell am I to judge?_ It was about damn time he had someone in his life, even if it was someone no one expected. Thirteen vowed to keep her newfound knowledge to herself. She was certain that this was something House would want to keep private until _he _was ready to tell it, if he ever was. If not…who the hell cared? As long as House was happy, it was all good.

# # #

House left the clinic, having logged a few hours to the good. He had actually enjoyed the experience for a change, and he was pretty sure sharing the time with Thirteen had a lot to do with it.

He had always liked Thirteen, even very early on in the hiring process. There was something in her that he understood, now more than ever. His eyes crinkled in amusement at the notion, considering all the hell he had given her for her bisexuality over the last couple of years.

As he crossed the lobby to the elevators, he noticed a vaguely familiar figure hauling a large object around. When the figure shoved his bangs out of his face, he smirked and casually wandered over.

"What brings you out this way?"

Anthony turned at the sound of House's voice, smiling as he approached. "Doing some work for a pain relief study." He set down his portable table to give House a quick hug, not sure how he'd take the extremely public display of affection.

Surprisingly enough, House reached out to touch him briefly. Not exactly a full hug, but then again, Anthony didn't really expect one. "So…keeping busy?"

"Just about to wrap things up. Patient's on the mend, I've knocked out some clinic duty…life's good."

"Cool." Anthony smiled. "I should be done in an hour or so if you want to get together."

House nodded. "Swing by my place when you're done. I should be there before too long."

"I will. Mind if I bring something to cook?"

"Not at all." House's eyes lit up at the idea. The elevator dinged, indicating its arrival. "My ride's here. See you when you get there."

Anthony nodded, watching House step onto the elevator with the crowd. He was tickled by the idea of cooking for the two of them. It had been ages since he'd done so, since it hardly seemed worth the effort just for himself. He occasionally cooked for friends, but that was different. This was much more intimate, and a little more nervewracking. On the other hand, it seemed like a perfect way to spend an evening. Anthony hoped that House would feel the same way.

# # #

House sat at his piano in a vain attempt to calm his nerves before Anthony's arrival. Running into him in the lobby had been an unexpected and pleasant surprise, the impromptu dinner invitation even more so.

Yeah, it had all sounded great an hour ago. Sitting here by himself, House found himself wracked with doubt. He huffed in irritation. It shouldn't be such a big deal, except that…it was. His first possible relationship in years, and it was with a guy. House's father would roll over in his grave if he knew.

A knock on the door interrupted his dark thoughts. He pushed himself off the piano bench and limped heavily to the door, throwing it open to reveal Anthony, who was holding two grocery bags, his messenger bag slung across his chest.

"Come on in. Kitchen's that way." House stepped away from the door to let Anthony in.

"Thanks." Anthony greeted House with a quick smile and the briefest kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen. House felt himself relax, most of his doubts evaporating in that small moment. He smiled slightly and followed Anthony into the kitchen.

Anthony was puttering around, unpacking groceries and searching for kitchen equipment. House's kitchen was surprising well-equipped, considering that the man didn't seem to cook. Most of it seemed almost new, and Anthony was sure it was simply because it hadn't been used much.

He opened up his bag, pulling out an I Pod and speakers, setting them up on the counter. Soon the sounds of Chicago spilled out into the kitchen, and House limped over to scroll through the playlist. It was mostly classic rock, with some newer music that House didn't recognize.

"What, no show tunes?"

Anthony rolled his eyes. "Not a big fan of musicals."

House shook his head in mock sadness. "You're losing points, boy."

Anthony laughed as he cut up chicken and vegetables and tossed them in a pan. "Here, make yourself useful. Fill this pot instead of standing around making fun of me."

"But making fun of you _is_ useful." House countered as he filled the pot and handed it to Anthony to set to boil on the stove. "It amuses me, amuses you…how is that useless?"

"Good point, I guess." Anthony returned to the stove, singing along with the song that was playing. "_When I'm with you…I feel a thousand different feelings…"_

House smirked as he reached into the fridge for a pair of beers. "You choose that song on purpose?"

"Nope." Anthony's green eyes crinkled in amusement as he took the beer that House offered. "That thing has a mind of its own."

"Interesting." House limped over to the island, leaning against it as he watched Anthony work. The whole scene stirred something deep inside House, something he didn't even know existed until…now.

House felt a mixture of fear and desire build inside him as he approached Anthony, limping up behind him to place a hand at his waist, closing his eyes as he inhaled Anthony's crisp scent.

"Easy there, big guy." Anthony chuckled softly at House's sudden show of affection.

"What?" House was all wide-eyed innocence as he set his chin on Anthony's shoulder. "It's smelling good."

"Me or the food?" Anthony teased.

"Both." House smirked. "Can't decide what I want first."

"Oh, you're all talk."

"Maybe so, maybe not." House planted a couple of soft kisses on Anthony's neck. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

Anthony turned off the stove and turned to face House, leaning against the counter and placing his hands on House's waist. "What's gotten into you?"

"Don't know." House studied Anthony's face before reaching up to brush Anthony's bangs from his eyes. The bruising around his eye was fading to a dull yellow, and his lip was far less swollen than it had been the night before. "How are you…"

"Fine." Anthony spoke roughly, pulling House to him for a fierce, searing kiss, completely catching him off guard.

_Good to know…_House grinned to himself as he pressed further, his cane falling out of his hand to brace himself against the counter. Their tongues tangled as Anthony's hands moved to the small of House's back, drifting further to his backside, pulling him closer.

House pulled back, brushing his lips along Anthony's jaw, the stubble scraping his lips as he moved toward his ear. "What did I tell you about that…" He growled in Anthony's ear.

"Sorry." Anthony's words came out as a rough whisper. "Guess the hands have a mind…of their own…too…" He could barely think, let alone speak, with the way House's hands and mouth roamed over him. A soft groan escaped him as House's hands found their way under his shirt, exploring everywhere he could reach.

The feel of soft skin combined with rough hair triggered something that had long lain dormant in House, and it felt like a set of floodgates opening. Thoughts, feelings, emotions…they rushed through House's brain, crashing into each other, want and need becoming one.

The intensity scared Anthony a little, and his first instinct was to pull back, slow things down. House was having none of it, and he pushed on, capturing Anthony's lips once again, rolling his tongue around in his mouth, that rough hand moving up to stroke his chest.

Something about this suddenly felt wrong, and Anthony felt a wave of panic wash over him, his brain flashing back to events at the club. His breathing shortened, and his body tensed under House's touch.

"Greg…" Anthony's voice came out as a tense squeak. "Stop…please…"

House detected the note of panic in Anthony's voice, and he immediately pulled back. Anthony's eyes were round with fear, even as they were still slightly hooded with desire. "What's wrong?"

"I…I don't even know where to start." Anthony averted his eyes, embarrassed by his reaction to House's touch.

"Try me." House lightly stroked Anthony's face, brushing his hair.

Anthony crossed his arms over his chest in a classic protective pose, looking at the floor. He took a deep breath and started. "When I went to the club the other night…I kind of met a couple of guys."

House frowned slightly, but otherwise didn't react. "Go on…"

"Well…one thing kind of led to another, and I…walked out with one of them." Anthony's mouth twisted as the memory came rushing back. "Turns out they were just toying with me. One of them got me in the eye and the lip, the other knocked me down and kicked me in the ribs. It all just happened so damned fast…" Anthony was shaking, not daring to look House in the eye.

House tilted his head at him, his hands still on the counter on either side of Anthony. "How did Miss Thing get involved?"

"She wasn't far behind me when I left with the guy." Anthony smirked slightly. "When the…action started, she started raising all kinds of hell. Scared the shit out of them, and they ran off. I don't even remember what happened after that…it was all a blur. Next thing I know, you showed up."

"So…that's it? That's the whole story?" House was puzzled.

"Isn't that enough?" Anthony looked incredulous. "Jesus, Greg…this…this is my _life_. This is what happens to men who like men." He could feel his anger rising. "I don't have the option of just running back to dating women if things get tough. You do."

House groaned and dropped his head. So that's what this was really all about. "Tony…" He stepped forward, planting a kiss on the younger man's forehead. "Right now…you're who I want. And you don't have to tell me how tough it is out there. I already knew."

"I figured you'd have forgotten." Anthony felt a little shamed after his self-righteous outburst.

"Know this about me…I don't forget _shit_." House felt a little of his own anger rising as old memories bubbled to the surface. "So, anyway…where were we?"

Anthony was completely confused. "What…that's it? I confess to being a man-whore and getting my ass whooped for it…and you just want to…"

"Move on? Yep." House leaned in, laying small kisses on Anthony's face. "It's not like you knew how things would work out between us."

"Yeah, but…we'd already had a date…" Anthony could sense that he was losing the argument, but wasn't quite ready to give up yet.

"So you were keeping your options open. Nothing wrong with that." House glared at Anthony, but there was no anger behind it. "Are you done trying to be rational now?"

"I suppose." Anthony reached out to touch the back of House's neck as House pressed his lips to his, his tongue gently seeking entrance.

"Good." House murmured, running a rough hand through Anthony's feather soft hair, settling on the back of his neck.

A sudden growl from House's stomach broke the moment, and both men burst out into laughter. "Guess I'll take that food now." House stepped back and brushed Anthony's cheek with his thumb. "We can always pick this up…later."

"Right." Anthony leaned against the counter, watching House as he grabbed a plate, peeking in the pot of boiling water.

"Uh…I'm no expert, but I think we're missing something here." House wrinkled his brow in mock confusion.

Anthony smacked his forehead with his palm. He'd been so…distracted that he had forgotten all about the pasta. Laughing, he gently nudged House away from the stove. "Go on…I'll let you know when it's ready. _Obviously _I have a hard time cooking with you around."

House grinned, a full grin that lit up his face. "Not my fault I'm so damned distracting."

"Out, out, out." Anthony firmly shoved House toward the doorway. "We'll never eat at this rate."

"I'm kind of okay with that." House hollered as he limped into the living room.

Anthony sighed as he dumped pasta in the water. So much for moving slowly. It looked like things were going to move faster with House than he had intended. Like House, he was kind of okay with it, too.

# # #

**It's that time again. Read and review. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**This is the part where I insert all those "I don't own them" disclaimers. I only claim the O/Cs. :)**

# # #

The two men stood in the kitchen, Anthony washing up dishes while House leaned against the counter drinking his beer.

"Feel free to jump in any time, Greg." Anthony gave House a brief glare as he set clean dishes in the rinse sink.

"Why? Looks like you've got it covered." House took another long pull of his beer.

"It'll get done faster with both of us working. And the sooner it's done…" Anthony arched an eyebrow at House.

"Wait…I know the answer to that one." House teased, pretending to ponder the statement. "The sooner it's done…the sooner I can take over that couch and scroll through my TiVo."

Anthony rolled his eyes and flicked a bit of the dish water at House. "Yeah, totally. Now come on. Let's get this done already."

"Fine. Shove over, boy."

Anthony moved back over to the wash side, turning up the music as he did so. He was oddly amused when House called him 'boy', since he was far from one. "What's with calling me 'boy'?"

"Because you are one, duh." House picked up dishes from the sink and started placing them in the drainer.

"That's not what I meant, _duh_." Anthony set the pan in the rinse water, splashing House slightly as he did so. "I mean…I don't think I'm that much younger than you. How old are you?"

House glanced at the spots of water on his shirt, glaring and frowning slightly. "Fifty. And you're what…thirty-five, thirty-six?"

Anthony's mouth quirked in amusement. "Flattery will get you…almost everywhere. Try forty-three."

House just looked at him, stunned into silence. Finally he shook his head, surprised at his lack of perception. "There's no way. Prove it."

Anthony smirked, wiping off his hands before reaching for his wallet, handing his drivers' license to House. Sure enough, there it was...DOB: 07-17-66.

"Well, I'll be damned." House handed back the license. "At least one of us is aging well."

"It's only a few years difference. Not that big a deal." Anthony tucked the license back in his wallet and tucked the wallet back in his pocket.

"Easy for you to say. You're still young and cute. Me…not so much."

Anthony gave him a baffled look. "You're kidding, right?" House shrugged, looking down in the sink as if suddenly fascinated by an object there. "Greg…when I saw you sitting at that bar…this face was the first thing that caught my eye. And when you turned and looked at me…" House lifted his head, regarding Anthony with an unreadable expression. "Yeah, kind of like that. Those big blues got me. And the leather jacket didn't hurt, either."

House twisted his mouth in a half smile. "Flattery will get you a lot of places, _boy_."

"Good." Anthony leaned over to lightly kiss House on his scruffy cheek. "Because I plan on taking you all _kinds_ of places."

"Promise?" House smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

"Yep." Anthony calmly folded the dish towel and hung it over the cabinet door. Suddenly there was a wet hand at the small of his back and soft lips on his jaw.

"How about now?" House's voice was soft in Anthony's ear.

"Now works." Anthony murmured, wrapping a hand around House's neck and pulling him closer.

As if on cue, an old Queen song wafted out of the speakers. _Ooh, love…ooh…loverboy…What're you doing tonight hey boy…set my alarm, turn on my charm…That's because I'm a good old fashioned loverboy…_

House gave the I Pod a glare. "Tell me you didn't pick that."

"The thing's possessed, what can I say?"

House leaned over, trapping Anthony between himself and the counter, turning off the I Pod. He took the opportunity to leave a kiss on his cheek, working his way to his lips, capturing them with his own.

"Mmm…Greg?"

"Hmm?"

"You've got a bed, right?"

"Mm-hm…" House continued down Anthony's neck, pushing aside the collar of his polo shirt to leave a kiss on his collarbone.

"Probably be more comfortable there." Anthony ran his hands under House's t-shirt, feeling the muscle flex underneath his skin.

"Couldn't hurt to try it out." House pulled back, his head gesturing toward the kitchen doorway. "Down the hall at the end. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay." Anthony softly kissed House on the cheek, one hand trailing along his waist as he slipped out of House's grasp. "Don't be long."

House watched Anthony leave the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he finished the last of his beer. He contemplated the direction the evening had taken. It was unplanned, but not entirely unexpected. The idea still filled him with a bit of trepidation.

He took a deep breath and grabbed his cane from where it rested against the counter. There was only one way to figure out how this would all work out, and part of that solution was probably waiting in a bed at the end of the hall.

# # #

Anthony easily found House's bedroom at the end of the hall, slowly opening the door, not sure what he would find. Over the years Anthony had found that he could learn a good deal about a man by his bedroom, and House was no different.

A pair of glasses, a cell phone, and a watch lay on the bedside table, along with a pair of prescription bottles. Anthony didn't bother to investigate the contents as he continued looking around the distinctly masculine room. He nearly tripped over three pairs of running shoes on one side of the bed, and it was obvious which side House claimed.

He chuckled to himself and climbed in on the other side, toeing off his shoes as he did so. As he lay down, the slightest whiff of House's scent filled his nostrils. He felt the mattress shift, and a stronger whiff of that same scent wafted his way.

"Comfortable?" House snaked an arm around Anthony's waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Mm-hmm. You?"

"Getting there."

Anthony rolled over, studying House's face in the soft light of the bedside lamp. He didn't look apprehensive, exactly, but he didn't look entirely comfortable, either. "Are you sure about this?"

House laughed a little, a short laugh that was more of a nervous bark. "I'm not sure of anything anymore."

"Okay, okay." Anthony laughed softly as he ran a thumb over House's forehead, kissing it lightly. "Tell you what. You set the pace, okay? If things get too…weird for you, we'll stop. Deal?"

House wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Why would you do that?"

Anthony stared at House intently, penetrating him with those brilliant green eyes. "You need to be in control of this. If it's not right for you, it's not good for either of us. Get it?"

House nodded, letting Anthony's words seep into his brain. He hadn't been in control of anything in months, possibly years. Suddenly he felt a lot surer of what he was doing, although admittedly, it had been a very, very long time.

He roughly pulled Anthony to him for a long, hard kiss, his hands finding their way under Anthony's shirt, feeling every inch of skin he could reach. His hands shook slightly as he left Anthony's mouth, working his way down his throat, pushing his shirt off his body and tossing it to the floor next to the bed.

Anthony leaned down to leave a trail of kisses down House's neck, ending at the collar of his t-shirt, tracing along it with his tongue. He gently moved his hands under House's shirt as he did so, evoking a growl of pleasure from the older man.

Anthony grinned and moved downward, pushing House's shirt up to expose his chest and stomach, brushing his hand through the salt-and-pepper hair before tugging the shirt over House's head, throwing it aside to join his own.

House wrapped his arms around Anthony, pulling him close, reveling in the feel of Anthony's weight on him. It unlocked memories and emotions he was sure he had long buried, never to surface again. Not that he didn't still enjoy the soft feel of a female body, but this was a completely different thing.

The feel of this strong, firm body in his arms triggered something deep inside House, something akin to releasing a tiger from its cage, and he quickly rolled Anthony onto his back, fiercely pressing his lips into his neck, nearly knocking the wind out of Anthony with his intensity.

Anthony emitted a small gasp as House worked his way down his body, stopping just above the button of his jeans. House traced along the waistline with one finger, evoking a soft groan from Anthony as the younger man stroked the back of House's head.

"Greg…you don't have to…"

House briefly lifted his head, dragging himself back up to brush his lips against Anthony's ear. "You want this…and I want this. What the hell's the problem?"

"No…no problem…"

"Then shut the hell up, _boy_." House spoke roughly, deftly undoing Anthony's jeans and slipping a hand inside to rest near his hip. "I might be a little rusty, but it's starting to…come back to me."

Anthony arched at House's touch, and his breath started coming out in short pants under House's further explorations as he furiously worked his jeans off his body to allow House greater access.

House sent him over the edge in spectacular fashion, leaving him shaking from the intensity of the moment. He pulled House up to him, grasping the back of his neck and capturing his lips in a hard kiss.

He quickly undid House's jeans, rolling him onto his back, straddling the older man. House bit back a gasp of pain when Anthony hit his leg, and Anthony fixed him with a concerned look.

"You okay?"

"Leg." House grunted. "No big."

"Okay…" Anthony kept moving down House's body, setting him on fire with his touch. It had been far too long since another person had touched him like this, and damned if he was going to deny himself this pleasure anymore.

Anthony eased House's jeans off his body, stroking his muscular legs as he did so. He noticed the gaping scar in House's right thigh, and he felt House tense at the touch. House immediately batted his hand away with a brusque "Don't."

Anthony moved on, distracting House by moving hands and mouth elsewhere, until the older man was once again lost in the pure pleasure he was receiving.

He came closer and closer to that edge, and he clutched at the back of Anthony's head, tangling his hand in his hair as he finally went over, relaxing as he felt himself return to reality.

Anthony pushed himself up and flopped down on his back next to House, taking a deep, satisfied breath. He felt House shift next to him, and soon there was an arm snaked around his waist, House's lips pressing to his temple.

"Hey." Anthony smiled as he wrapped an arm around House, surprised by his sudden show of affection. He had half expected him to bolt, or at the very least, separate himself from Anthony. "Are you alright?"

House snorted and chuckled, curling closer to the younger man. "You could say that."

"Good." Anthony quickly squeezed House and slowly pulled away, rising from the bed. "Okay if I use the shower?"

"Sure." House's sleepy voice carried to him, and he turned to see him splayed out across the bed, covers tossed haphazardly over him, a calm, peaceful look on his face. "Got some extra scrub pants in the top drawer."

Anthony nodded and stumbled slightly toward the dresser, pulling out a pair of scrubs before making his way out of the room. He felt oddly dizzy, but he didn't think anything of it, and he stood in the doorway, waiting for the moment to pass.

It wasn't passing. If anything, it was getting worse, accompanied by a sudden raging headache. "Greg…?"

Something seemed off in Anthony's voice, and it put House on instant alert. He no sooner sat up when Anthony's body suddenly crumpled to the floor.

"Shit." House flew out of bed, limping heavily and turning on the overhead light. He painfully bent down, rolling Anthony over to check his eyes. Anthony was barely conscious, his eyelids fluttering, muttering something House couldn't understand.

His pupils were uneven, and his breathing was ragged. House quickly made his way to his bedside table, grabbing his phone and dialing 911.

"Yeah…need an ambulance…forty-three year old Caucasian male, possible head trauma." House rattled off the address, then closed the phone and made his way back to Anthony.

"Tony…talk to me." House carefully studied him, fighting the rising tide of panic inside him.

Anthony's eyes fluttered, unfocused, but still conscious. "Dizzy…head hurts…" He started retching, and House quickly managed to shove him to his side before he vomited, groaning with pain. "Sorry…"

"What the hell for?!" House snapped as he tugged the scrub pants over Anthony's body, huffing at his sudden show of temper. "Got an ambulance coming…just…don't sweat it."

House quickly found his own clothes, furiously tugging them on when he heard the knock on the door, followed by the crew entering the apartment.

"Ambulance!"

"Down here!"

The crew loaded Anthony onto the stretcher, and House caught the scared look in his eye. House leaned over him, briefly squeezing his hand and whispering in his ear, "I'll be right behind you. Hang in there." He sharply nodded to the EMT. "Take him to Plainsboro."

Soon Anthony was loaded, and House could hear the sirens as the ambulance left for PPTH. He sat heavily on the bed, shaking as he ran his fingers through his short hair. There was only one thing left to do, and House hit the speed dial button on his phone.

"Wilson?" House took a deep breath. "Need you to meet me at the ER."

_Oh God._ "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"It's not for me, dumbass." House snapped as he found his keys and jacket and limped heavily out the door, slamming it behind him. "It's Tony...Anthony. And before you automatically ask, no, he's not okay, otherwise he wouldn't be on his way to the hospital."

Wilson ran his hand through his hair, clutching the back of his neck. He had lost count of the number of times he had come running to House's rescue. This time House was asking him to come to his emotional rescue. Well, not in so many words, but the slightly desperate note in his otherwise snarky tone conveyed the message crystal clear.

"You sure you don't want me to come get you?"

"No time. I'll meet you there." House quickly snapped his phone closed, not wanting to waste time arguing with Wilson as he climbed into his car. He let his head hit the headrest, slumping down in the seat, finally letting the events of the evening sink in.

The whole damn thing had been so…right, from their easy banter over dinner, to working with him shoulder to shoulder over dishes, to the feel of Anthony's lips and hands over his body. And now…House didn't know to think. When Anthony had collapsed in the hallway, House hadn't reacted like a doctor. He'd reacted on a much more personal level, and that scared him, more than anything else.

There was more than a physical attraction going on with Anthony, House knew that now. How that had happened in such a short time, he had no idea. It wasn't something he felt like examining right now. Someone needed him right now, and for once, he was going to be there.

# # #

**It's that time again...I've done my part, now do your part and hit the review button. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Kind of a longwinded one here. :) Thanks to all of you who keep reading and reviewing! As usual, I don't own anything but the OCs.**

# # #

Anthony slowly floated into consciousness, tuning in to the chaos that surrounded him. His raging headache had settled into a dull throb now, and he was finally able to focus on his surroundings.

"Doctor Cameron?" He heard a distant voice. "He's conscious."

A young female face was suddenly over his, checking his eyes with a small light, much like House had just a couple of nights before. Anthony winced and tried to turn away despite the pain that still coursed through his head.

The young woman smiled warmly as she tucked the light back in her pocket. "I'm Doctor Cameron. Do you know where you are?"

Anthony grinned crookedly. "Hospital, duh."

Cameron couldn't help but laugh a little. "Good, good. I've got to ask you a few questions, okay? Just answer the best you can."

She asked him a few basic questions, and she seemed satisfied with his answers. "Okay, follow my finger." Cameron moved her index finger from one side to the other, observing Anthony's erratic tracking. She frowned slightly in concern, making notes on the clipboard. "I'm going to schedule you for a CT scan. You might have some intracranial bleeding, and we need to find the source. Is there someone we should contact?"

Anthony's scrambled brain attempted to put a coherent thought together. "Yeah…House…Greg House. He said…he was right behind me…"

Cameron's brow crinkled in confusion. How the hell did this guy know House? "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Anthony looked up at Cameron, baffled. "Why?"

"No reason."

The curtain whipped open, revealing a disheveled House, a flustered Wilson right behind him. Cameron looked at House as if he'd lost his mind, and Wilson gave her an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry. I tried to keep him out of here, but you know…"

"It's fine." Cameron quickly interjected. "I was about to contact him anyway."

"Hello, still in the room!" House snapped, shoving his way to the gurney, intently studying Anthony's face. His pupils were slightly more even than they had been earlier, and he had a slightly dopey grin on his face. "So what's the word?"

"Possible intracranial bleeding. I'm about to send him for a CT to confirm and find the source. Once that happens…"

"Yeah, I know. I managed not to sleep through that part of med school." House's voice was rough, his eyes still on the younger man on the gurney. He reached out and laid his large hand on Anthony's head, lightly stroking his forehead with his thumb.

Anthony closed his eyes at House's almost tender touch. "Go home. You look like I feel."

House nodded firmly before pulling back his hand, turning to see the stunned expression on Cameron's face. Wilson, to his credit, barely reacted. He pushed past Wilson, taking Cameron by the arm and leading her outside the curtain.

"Whatever you're thinking…you're probably right." House finally released his strong grip on her, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Just…you know…take care of the idiot, will you?"

"I'll keep you posted." Cameron folded her arms over her chest, watching House intently as he slowly nodded and lumbered out of the ER to the waiting area.

Cameron didn't know what to think about what she had just witnessed. Something must have changed drastically for House to so openly show affection for another human being. It was astounding, to say the least.

She smiled a little to herself as she returned to her patient. Just when she thought she was incapable of being surprised by House's behavior, something always seemed to pop up to prove her otherwise. Cameron lifted her eyes when Wilson emerged from behind the curtain.

"You're not surprised."

Wilson shrugged. "I already knew."

"So…are they…?"

Wilson's face twisted in a half-smile. "You're a smart girl. Figure it out." He glanced at House's retreating form. "Kind of looks that way to me."

"Huh. Interesting." Cameron hadn't wanted to jump to any conclusions. "Never thought of him…that way."

"Yeah. It's kind of weird for me, too." Wilson reached out to touch Cameron's shoulder. "I think he'd appreciate it if you kept this to yourself."

"Of course." Cameron nodded. The last thing she wanted to do was make things difficult for House. "I've got to get back. I'd tell you to take care of House, but…"

"No guarantees that he'll let me, but I'll do what I can." Wilson smiled warmly at Cameron. "Thanks."

"Sure." Cameron turned away, returning to her work. Wilson watched her go, reflecting on her behavior. Both of them cared for House in their own way, and Wilson knew both of them would do everything in their power to make sure he was okay, even if House didn't seem to want it.

# # #

Wilson walked up to where House sat in the waiting room, presenting him with a cup of coffee. House was staring at the floor, legs spread, rhythmically thumping the tip of his cane on the floor.

"You're still here." House lifted his head as he accepted the cup from Wilson.

"So are you." Wilson took the chair beside House, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Makes sense for me to be here." House leaned back and stretched out his legs, resting the cane in between while he sipped at his coffee, making a face. "God, who makes this crap?"

"You're welcome. And…you called me. Makes just as much sense for me to be here."

"I know." House's face turned somber, and he seemed to be very far away.

"House?" Wilson leaned forward, suddenly concerned. "Talk to me."

House's face twitched slightly, and he drew in a ragged breath. He suddenly jumped up, quickly brushing a finger under his eye. "Fuck."

Wilson watched House pace around the waiting area, clearly agitated. House's phone started chiming, and he stopped pacing long enough to dig it out of his pocket, flipping it open with one hand. "House."

He seemed to listen intently to whoever was chattering on the other end, rolling his eyes periodically. "Yeah…you could say he's with me. We're in the ER." House winced as he held the phone away from his ear, and Wilson could hear the screech on the other end from where he sat. "Jesus, man. I'm fine, and he will be. Yeah, we're at Plainsboro. See you when you get here."

House snapped his phone closed, shaking his head. "Goddamn screaming queen." He turned to face Wilson, who looked at him with a questioning expression. House rolled his eyes in something akin to amusement. "Simon. He's a friend of Tony's. He's on his way here."

Wilson nodded, not sure what to say. "Should I stick around?"

House looked directly at him, with an expression Wilson had only seen one other time. It gave him chills. "Would you?"

"Yeah." Wilson stood, closing the distance between himself and House. He looked so lost, so scared, that it scared Wilson, too. Wilson felt House's forehead hit his shoulder, and he automatically reached out to grasp the back of House's head. "Hey, hey…it's okay. It's Cameron in there. You know she'll do her best for him."

"Shut up." House's muffled voice snapped at Wilson. He was so emotionally raw right now, and it was all House could do to contain himself. This was exactly why he closed himself off, never allowed himself to get emotionally invested in anyone. It hurt too goddamn much.

"Greg!" House lifted his head to see the dynamic figure of Simon rush into the waiting area. "Where is he?!"

"Still in there, I think. Haven't heard anything yet."

Simon threw his arms around House, causing the older man to tense, an irritated look crossing his face. "Thank God you were with him. What happened?"

House twisted his mouth, not sure he wanted to share the whole story in front of Wilson. "He got dizzy and collapsed. Said his head hurt, then he tossed his cookies."

"My God." Simon pulled back, looking horrified.

"Yeah." House spoke softly, the image of Anthony sprawled out in his hallway burned in his brain.

"Are _you_ okay?" Simon looked at him intently.

House rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I'm fine. Why the hell wouldn't I be?"

"Just saying. You're looking a little…rougher than usual." Simon seemed to study House. It was disconcerting. Finally he folded his arms over his chest. Experience told Simon that there was a whole lot that House wasn't telling. "Were you two…"

"Mind your own fucking business." House snarled, turning away to the other end of the waiting area. The last thing he needed was Simon's nosiness. With any luck, Anthony would bring Simon up to speed before too long. In the meantime, though, he just needed some time to think without either of these two chuckleheads smothering him.

"Hmph." Simon watched House furiously limp away. "Sensitive one, isn't he?"

Wilson shrugged, observing the man that stood next to him. He was slender, with dark, smooth skin. There was something off about him, and Wilson realized that he was wearing make up. _Takes all kinds, I guess._ "He's…a very private man. Doesn't open up much."

"You've never seen him with Tony, then."

Wilson was about to open his mouth to disagree when Cameron briskly strode through the doors of the ER.

"Hey." She spoke distractedly. "Where's House?"

Both men pointed down to the end of the waiting area, where a still-agitated House paced furiously. Cameron nodded, taking a deep breath before walking down there.

"House?" Cameron's gentle voice broke into House's thoughts.

"Yeah."

House turned around, and Cameron placed a copy of the CT scan in his hand. He held it up to the light, studying it carefully. "There's a small bleed right there." Cameron explained. "Looks like it may have been caused by direct trauma."

House nodded. It made sense, considering that it was in the same spot that Anthony had been holding the ice pack the other night. He felt Cameron touch him on the shoulder. "They should have an OR ready for him soon. Why don't you at least go up to your office? It's got to be more comfortable than hanging out down here."

"Maybe. Page me when he's ready."

Cameron bit back her words of concern. House looked as if he was on the edge of falling apart, and she had no desire to be on the receiving end of whatever might come out. "I will."

She turned to go back to the ER, and House followed, finally rejoining Wilson and Simon. He thumped the tip of his cane on the floor, puffing out his cheeks. "He's going to have surgery to repair the bleed. I'm going up to my office."

Wilson followed House, leaving Simon in the waiting area. House stopped, turning to Simon. "Not planning on going anywhere, are you?" Simon shook his head, silent for once. "Might as well come along, then. Beats the hell out of waiting here."

Wilson was surprised at House's show of what passed for kindness as Simon quickly followed the two doctors to the elevator. It was as if he were comforting the other man, in some odd way. This whole night had turned so odd that Wilson didn't know what to think. He was so damned tired that he didn't really want to be bothered with thinking. He decided to simply follow House. If nothing else, he could be there for him. Maybe that would be enough.

# # #

The three men separated at the elevator, Wilson heading to his own office while Simon and House went to his. House gestured toward the coffeemaker in the conference room.

"You can put some on if you want. Personally, I could use something a little stronger." He pulled the bottle of bourbon and a glass out of his bottom desk drawer.

"Do you mind sharing?"

House briefly glared at the other man before pulling out a second glass, pouring them both a large measure. "Sure you can handle it?"

"Boy, please." Simon rolled his eyes and took the glass. "I could drink you under the table."

"You're probably right." House smirked as he took a long sip, the bourbon burning pleasantly down his throat. It was one of the things he missed the most during his time away, although his tolerance had decreased significantly. "Too bad we didn't meet years ago. A drinking contest might have been kind of fun."

"Everything happens for a reason, Greg." Simon drank down half his glass in one shot, wandering over to the balcony door.

House snorted. "That's a crock. Sometimes things happen for no reason."

"I don't think you really believe that." Simon stared out the balcony door into the night. "Every decision we make has consequences, good or bad. There's _always _a reason, even if we don't see it at the time."

House shook his head. Anthony was laying in an OR somewhere, and here he was having a philosophical discussion with his drag queen friend. Things couldn't have gotten weirder if they had tried. He half wondered if he were suffering delusions again, then pushed the thought aside. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, taking another long drink.

Anthony. Dammit. House sank heavily in his desk chair, a ragged sigh escaping his lips. The well of emotion that had threatened to overtake him back in the ER raised its ugly head once again, and House scrubbed his hand over his face, draining the last of his bourbon and slamming the glass on the desk.

Simon's head snapped around at the sound, and he saw House slumped down in the chair, a pained expression etched in his rough features. His heart went out to the older man. Simon was all too familiar with Anthony's effect on everyone he came into contact with. He was the sort of man that quickly got under one's skin and into one's heart with his sweet, gentle ways. While he was sure House wouldn't admit it, Simon was sure that House had fallen under his friend's spell.

"Oh, Greg." Simon crossed over to House, bending down near his chair to wrap his arms around him. "You're not okay at all, are you?"

House stiffened, but didn't make any attempt to pull away. He was too damned tired to fight, anyway. "If I wanted to be buried in sympathy, I'd call the guy down the hall." He growled at Simon, but there was very little anger in it.

"I can arrange that." Simon spoke quietly, a slight smile on his face. He dropped a light kiss on House's forehead, evoking a scowl from him. "I'm worried about him, too. He's the closest thing I have to a brother."

House looked baffled. "You're not attracted to him?"

"Oh, I didn't say that." Simon backed away from House, leaning against the desk. "We decided a long time ago that we're far better as friends than we are as lovers. Kind of like you and your friend…Wilson?"

"Hate to disappoint you. Wilson's the straightest guy I know."

"Hmm. Too bad. He's a cutie pie."

House smirked. "I'll make sure to let him know."

Simon rolled his eyes. "Like you've never thought the same thing."

"Should have seen him fifteen years ago." House pushed himself out of his desk chair to pour himself another bourbon, offering some to Simon. He knew he was telling way too much, but he was too worn out to care.

Simon took the bourbon, swirling it around in the glass before taking a long sip. "You're very fortunate to have a friend like him."

House nodded. "I know." His pager started going off at his hip. "Looks like our boy is out of surgery and recovering."

"Oh good." Simon drained the last of his bourbon and rose from the desk. "Coming with?"

"Later." House finished his drink and put the bottle and glasses back in the drawer. "Going to swing by Wilson's office and kick him out."

"Well, if I don't see you…" Simon gave House a quick hug. "Take care. Thanks for the drink."

"Yeah, you too." House awkwardly returned the gesture.

As Simon left, House let out a heavy puff of air. It was beyond late, even for him, and the stress of the night had taken its toll. He wanted nothing more than to stretch out somewhere and crash. But there would be time for that later. House had one more thing to do before he saw Anthony.

# # #

House quietly pushed Wilson's office door open, the dim light in the hallway highlighting the boyish figure sprawled out on the couch. He looked so peaceful that House almost hated to disturb him. Almost.

He nudged Wilson's foot with his cane. "Wake up, Sunshine."

Wilson stirred, squinting in the dim light. "What's going on?"

"Anthony's out of surgery. Go home."

Wilson sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, running his hand through his hair. "Just like that? You're kicking me out?"

"Yep." House leaned on his cane, the light from the hall silhouetting his lean frame.

Wilson finally rose from the couch, stumbling slightly toward the door. "If you're sure…"

House suddenly grabbed him in an awkward one-armed hug. "You're a better friend than I deserve. Now get the hell out of here and go home."

"Oof." Wilson was stunned by House's sudden show of affection or…whatever it was. "Okay, okay. I'll at least go up there with you, then I'll go home."

"Fine." House backed off quickly with a huff, turning and limping toward the elevator.

The two friends stepped on, and House leaned heavily against the back wall, looking at the floor. The last time Wilson had seen him like this…he didn't want to think about that, not when things appeared to be on the upswing for House.

He gave House a brief glance before speaking. "Anything I can do?"

"You've done more than enough." House's tired voice spoke volumes. "Thanks for…you know. Everything."

Wilson's lips curled in a hint of a smile. He appreciated how hard this was for House. "This is what we do, House. Some things don't change."

"I'm glad for that." House finally glanced over at Wilson. "Life would suck without you."

"And life would be boring without you."

House smirked, relieved that their social contract was intact. He was damned grateful he hadn't opened his big fat mouth and said anything else.

They stepped off at the next floor and found Anthony's room. Simon was just inside, chatting up a storm, his hands flapping around in extravagant gestures. House and Wilson just looked at each other, sharing a small chuckle.

"I guess this is where I bail out." Wilson reached out and lightly touched House's shoulder. "Better go kick Simon out of your boyfriend's room."

House rolled his eyes. "You're goofy when you don't get your beauty sleep." He studied Wilson's face carefully. "Go home."

Wilson watched as House limped heavily into Anthony's room, gesturing for Simon to leave. He made his way out, noticing Wilson.

Wilson nodded to him. "How's he doing?"

"As well as can be expected." Simon nodded in response. "I think he's doing a lot better now."

Wilson watched through the window as House carefully sat down on the bed, reaching out to touch Anthony's face. The two men chatted briefly, and Anthony shifted, gesturing for House to join him. As House lay down, he happened to see Wilson and Simon through the window. He glared at them, giving them the middle finger before laying his head on Anthony's chest and closing his eyes.

Simon rolled his eyes. "Nice."

Wilson smirked and shrugged. "That's House for you."

Inside the room, Anthony chuckled softly. "Was that really necessary?"

"Absolutely." House muttered sleepily. "Don't need those two Nosy Nellies all up in my business."

Anthony stroked House's head, lightly kissing the top as he did so. "You never went home, did you?"

"Something else you should know about me. I don't listen worth a shit."

"Noted and filed." Anthony closed his eyes, savoring the unique blend of scents that wafted from House. "Kind of a fucked up night, huh?"

House shrugged. "You're not the first guy to puke and pass out in that place. I've done it, too."

"Really? What brought that on?"

"Note and file this. OxyContin and bourbon are not a good mix."

A hint of fear stabbed at Anthony. "You OD'ed."

House froze. He blamed the late hour and lack of sleep for his suddenly freeflowing tongue. "I was going through a bad time."

Anthony traced along House's hairline with his thumb. "Seems like you've had a lot of those."

"It's starting to look up now." House mumbled. "Now shut up and get some sleep. You've had a rough night."

"Yeah, you too." Anthony heard snoring before he even got the words out. He hoped that the night nurse would be kind enough not to kick House out when she found him there. Right now, his weight against him was just the kind of comfort he needed, and Anthony suspected House felt much the same way.

# # #

**Keep all those reviews coming. Even if I can't respond, I do read and appreciate them all. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Usual disclaimers apply. Don't own any of the House stuff, but wouldn't it be cool if I did? :) I only claim the O/Cs.**

# # #

Anthony awakened as the gray light of the dawn made its way across the room. None of it seemed familiar, and it took him a while to take in his surroundings and reorient himself. Suddenly it all came rushing back to him.

He glanced down to see the one constant in this whole situation still curled up to him, snoring and drooling on his chest. Anthony couldn't help but smile a little, lightly kissing the top of his head and grazing his fingers along his arm.

House stirred slightly at the touch, mumbled something indecipherable, but otherwise didn't wake up. Anthony didn't have the heart to disturb him. It had been a rough night for both of them, and Anthony still wasn't sure how they would handle things when he woke up.

Something was developing between them, Anthony knew that, something that went beyond the mere physical. The thought scared him a little, even as it thrilled him. Simon would probably shake his head and scold him for falling so fast for someone he barely knew. No, Simon would _definitely _scold him. He adored Simon, but he could be a bit…much sometimes.

A loud snort and movement snapped Anthony out of his thoughts, and he looked down to see a pair of bloodshot blue eyes blinking and staring at him. House scowled slightly as he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. He made a face as he wiped the corner of his mouth before shaking his head as if to clear it.

Anthony's mouth quirked in amusement at the rumpled figure before him. "Morning."

"Is that what they call it? I always wondered." House grumbled, rubbing his leg, the pain obvious on his face.

Anthony reached out and covered House's hand with his own. "Greg…go home and get some real sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

House nodded dully. "Suppose I should. You left all your crap over at my place. I guess I could pack it up and bring it up here later."

"I'd appreciate that." Anthony nodded. "Look…I know last night was a little…strange."

House's mouth twisted in a slight smirk. "That's an understatement."

"All I'm saying is…" Anthony quickly squeezed House's hand. "I'm not expecting any sudden declarations of love or anything. If you need a little time away, I understand."

House's face was unreadable, and Anthony waited for him to say…something, anything. Suddenly House moved forward, placing a hand on either side of Anthony, and pressed a firm kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back later. Just need some decent sleep."

He picked up his cane and pushed himself off the bed, moving slowly and painfully out of the room. Anthony smiled to himself as he lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. He was surprised that House hadn't distanced himself from him, but he was pleased, too. Maybe there was a bit of hope for them after all.

# # #

House quietly closed the sliding door of the room behind him, letting out the breath he'd been holding. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. 6AM. Christ. It seemed he'd gotten out just before shift change, and he found himself grateful that he probably wouldn't run into anyone he knew at this hour.

Exhaustion crept into every bone and muscle in his body as he waited for the elevator, and he didn't notice the familiar figure that stood next to him until it spoke to him.

"How's he doing?"

House turned at the Australian accent. Chase stood next to him, waiting for a response from the older doctor. He regarded him suspiciously. "How's who doing?"

Chase rolled his eyes. He really had no intention of playing mind games with his former boss. "I assisted on his surgery last night. I would have checked in on him, but he had company. Didn't want to disturb him."

House looked down at the floor, suddenly interested in the tile pattern. "Guess he's okay."

Chase gave House a sideways look, attempting to catch his eye, studying him carefully. "And you?"

"Fucking tired of everyone asking me if I'm okay." House growled as the elevator doors opened. He stepped on, Chase at his heels. "You know…I've already got a personal stalker. Don't need another one."

Chase shrugged. "I'm taking the night shift."

House rolled his eyes before leaning against the back wall of the elevator. Normally he would have been happy to verbally spar with Chase, but right now he just didn't have the energy. He couldn't help but feel like Chase had been sent by someone, perhaps a certain blonde ER doctor, to keep an eye on him. "The little wife put you on House watch?"

Chase smirked a little and chuckled. "Maybe. So what if she did?"

House chuckled, twisting his mouth into the barest ghost of a smile. "Then you're more whipped than I thought." The doors opened to the ground floor, and both men stepped out. "See you around."

Chase nodded thoughtfully, stopping House with a hand on his shoulder. A million comforting phrases ran through Chase's head, none of them any that House would appreciate, especially in his current state.

House glared at the hand on his shoulder, then back at Chase. "There's only one guy I let paw me. You're not him."

Chase quickly retracted his hand, startled, but not surprised at House's reaction. "Take care, House."

House nodded firmly and limped heavily toward the exit, leaving Chase behind him. The couple of hours of sleep he'd managed to snag in Anthony's room had helped, but it was nowhere near enough, and he just wanted to crash in his own bed.

Chase simply watched House lumber out the hospital, shoulders slumped. It wasn't the defeated posture he'd seen in House so many times. This was something altogether different, a posture born out of care and concern for another human being. If Chase hadn't personally witnessed House curled up in that hospital bed with his patient, he would have certainly drawn a different conclusion.

It was official, Chase decided. Nothing about House surprised him anymore. Nothing at all.

# # #

House let himself into his apartment, letting the door slam heavily behind him. His brain felt so scrambled that he was having trouble deciding what to do first. Clearly he was in no condition to work. Even clinic duty would tax him in this state.

He pulled out his cell and scrolled through the contacts, finding the number and hitting 'send'. The other person's voice mail finally picked up, and House took a deep breath before leaving a message. "Cuddy, it's House. I'm taking a personal day. Call me back and I'll fill you in."

He snapped the phone closed and shoved it back in his pocket and slowly made his way down the hallway to the bathroom. Sleeping in that damned hospital bed had every muscle in his body screaming for mercy, especially his leg. House ran the water as hot as he could stand it before stripping down and climbing in.

The hot water stung as it hit his sore body, but soon House relaxed as he let the water rush over his back, the soreness finally easing. The steady rhythm of the water raining down on him soothed his soul like few things could, and he quickly scrubbed himself clean, adjusting the temperature as he got used to the heat of the shower.

He finally let his mind process the night's events, leaning against the shower wall, letting the water carry away the last of the stress he hadn't even realized he'd been feeling. It was only then that the enormity of the situation hit him.

_The goddamn idiot could have died._ The tide of emotion House had mostly managed to keep at bay during the night finally overwhelmed him. He felt his breath hitch involuntarily, and his eyes stung as he pressed against the shower wall, a strangled, unfamiliar sound coming out of nowhere.

He had no idea how long he stood there, waiting for the emotional storm to pass. Finally the water turned cold, and his body shook. Whether it was from emotion or the temperature, House didn't know. When he emerged from the shower, his phone was belting out Sir Mix-A-Lot's 'Baby Got Back'. He smirked and dug it out of his jeans pocket and flipped it open.

"Morning, Cuddy."

"House?" Cuddy's voice was tinged with concern. "I got your voice mail. What's going on?"

House huffed and scrubbed his hand over his face before proceeding. "Nothing much. Just had a rough night with a patient."

"You didn't have a patient." Cuddy was instantly suspicious.

He finally decided to just…come out with it, as it were. "Guy I've been seeing ended up in the ER last night. I was kind of up all night waiting around."

Cuddy crinkled her brow in confusion at the other end of the line. "Back up. What was that first part again?"

House growled in annoyance. The woman never just let anything be. "What part of that didn't you understand?"

Cuddy sat back in her desk chair, surprised by the turn of events. She had overheard Cameron and Chase chatting as she passed through this morning, but she didn't think anything of it until now. "You're serious."

"Yeah. Do I get the personal day or not?"

"Of course." Cuddy was still wrapping her brain around the whole idea. "Rest up, House. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah, thanks." House's voice was rough as he snapped the phone closed. He huffed in irritation as he found his lounge pants, tugging them on and limping out of the bathroom, carefully making his way down the hallway.

He stopped just short of the puddle of vomit that remained on the floor, and House's emotions threatened to take over once again. _Later…I'll handle this later…_, he thought to himself as he carefully stepped around it and into his bedroom.

The room still showed evidence of the events that had transpired, good, bad, and ugly. Anthony's clothes were still crumpled in a pile next to the bed where House had unceremoniously tossed them the night before. He sat on the bed and picked up the forest green polo shirt, turning it over in his hands.

"This is not the morning after I had in mind, boy." He murmured to himself, holding the shirt to his nose and inhaling the now familiar clean scent. It evoked a million thoughts and memories, all of it coming back in a rush. God, he missed the guy.

It surprised him that he had admitted that, even to himself. He lay down on the bed, still holding the shirt to his chest, reaching out to the other side of the bed. With any luck, Anthony would be back, and perhaps they could pick up things where they left off. House allowed himself a small smile as he drifted off, his thoughts taking a much more pleasant turn as the morning light streamed through his window.

# # #

Anthony was reading a gossip magazine that Simon had left with him earlier when he heard the glass door of his room slide open. He grinned when he saw the tip of a cane, followed by House.

"Didn't expect to see you again so soon." Anthony sat up a bit more in the bed as House handed him his messenger bag.

House shrugged. "Got all the time away I needed, I guess." He pulled up a chair next to the bed and plopped down, pulling out his PSP and putting his feet up on the bed.

Anthony chuckled, impulsively reaching out to touch House's foot, stroking the top of it with his thumb. House glanced up from his game, a small smirk crossing his face as he scooted down in his chair a little more, bringing his foot a little closer to Anthony's hand. It was good to feel his touch again. Somehow it seemed like something he wasn't going to get tired of anytime soon.

The sliding door opened again, revealing Foreman. He did a double take when he saw House, wondering if he had the right room. His eyebrow arched when he saw the patient's hand on House's foot. "House, what the hell are you doing here? Cuddy said you had a personal day."

"Stayed up all night partying with this guy." House hooked a thumb toward Anthony. "You know it's a good time when someone goes to the ER."

"Yeah…" Foreman gave House a funny look and turned to his patient. "Okay, follow my finger." Anthony easily tracked Foreman's movements, and Foreman took out his penlight to examine his pupils, nodding in approval. "Everything looks good. We're going to schedule you for another CT scan to make sure there's no more bleeding, and if all goes well, you should be released tomorrow."

"Cool." Anthony grinned, lightly squeezing House's foot. Foreman greeted this with another arched eyebrow, slowly starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together. He shook his head as he left the room. There were just certain things he never needed to know about his boss. The fact that he had apparently hooked up with a man was definitely one of those things.

House snorted as Foreman left, evoking a quizzical look from Anthony. "What's so funny?"

"That damned Foreman." House had resumed his game, his blue eyes darting all over the screen. "He's going to blow a gasket trying to figure us out."

Anthony chuckled in response before picking up his magazine again. "His reaction was kind of priceless." He glanced over at House, who was absorbed in his game, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he played. It was, for lack of a better word, cute.

He dug around in his bag for the travel kit he always carried with him, then gave House a quick pat. "Think I'm going to hit the shower while you're still around."

House briefly glanced up, fixing Anthony with a neutral expression. "You're not going to pass out in there or anything, are you?"

"I'll try not to."

"Good." House nodded firmly. "I might not be so quick on my feet next time."

"Right." Anthony flipped back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, carefully rising, a little stiff from the prolonged bed rest. So far, so good. The dizziness was gone, and headache had long since abated.

House watched him carefully, on the lookout for any indication of trouble with Anthony. Anthony could feel his eyes on him as he went into the bathroom. "I'm fine, Greg. Quit worrying."

House glared at him. "I don't fuss, and I _definitely_ don't worry. Go on and wash the funk off you."

Anthony snorted and closed the door. _Of course you don't, Greg. That's why you stayed all night, and that's why you're here now, because you don't worry at all._ He didn't need House to come out and say anything. His presence spoke volumes.

He emerged from the bathroom a short while later, feeling much better now that he had cleaned up somewhat. House had somehow managed to fall asleep while he was gone, his head pitched forward on his chest, lightly grasping the PSP in his elegant hands. Anthony climbed back into bed, leaning forward in an attempt to take the PSP before it fell to the floor.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A tall man with brown hair, brown eyes, and chiseled features leaned casually against the doorway of the room. "You might find yourself short a hand."

"Good to know." Anthony backed away from House, pulling the covers over his legs. "Should I know you?"

"Doctor James Wilson." Wilson crossed the room and extended his hand.

"Anthony Taylor." Anthony firmly grasped the hand that Wilson offered. "You must be Greg's friend."

It was unusual to hear anyone call House by his first name. Wilson never had and he'd known House for the better part of fifteen years. "And you must be his…" Wilson scrunched up his eyebrows. "…I don't know what to call you."

Anthony smiled and dipped his head slightly. "Anthony works. It's not exactly a defined thing between us."

Wilson nodded, taking a chair and pulling it near Anthony's bedside, taking care not to disturb House. He was still feeling fried after last night, and if that was the case, House must really be feeling it. "He called me last night. Must have been after you were on your way here."

Anthony's curiosity was piqued. He remembered seeing Wilson outside his room last night with Simon right after House flipped them off, but didn't bother to ask then why he was there. "You're telling me this for a reason." It wasn't a question, but a simple statement.

Wilson leaned forward in the chair, forearms on his knees, his brown eyes intently focused on Anthony. "When things go wrong in House's world, I'm the guy that picks up the pieces. Last night, when he called me…" Wilson looked down, shaking his head. "I didn't know what to think. Then when he told me it was you…" He held out his hands in an expressive gesture. "I _really_ didn't know what to think." He ran one hand through his hair, clutching the back of his neck. "I had a point in there somewhere…"

Anthony nodded. He was pretty sure what Wilson was trying to say. "_If_ Greg ever gives me his heart…rest assured, I'll take very good care of it." He reached out and squeezed Wilson's hand. "There won't be any pieces to pick up if I have anything to say about it."

"Get your paws off him, boy." A voice rumbled from the other side of the room. "Wilson doesn't swing that way."

Wilson looked visibly relieved as Anthony broke into a smile and released his hand, reaching over to place a hand on House's outstretched foot. House's hand covered his mouth, but the smirk showed in his crinkled blue eyes.

"Hey." Wilson tilted his head in House's direction. "How are you?"

House shrugged. "I've been worse. You?"

"Better." Wilson rose from his chair, nodding at Anthony. "I should go. Short night, long day…I'm beat."

He left the room, quietly sliding the door closed behind him, and Anthony watched him stride down the hall. "Simon was right…he is a cutie."

House rolled his eyes as he moved from the chair to sit on the bed beside Anthony. "Yeah, yeah…"

"More importantly…he's a good friend." Anthony gave House a meaningful look.

House stopped, a thoughtful look crossing his rugged features. "Yeah. He is." He leaned down to give Anthony a soft kiss. "I owe him a hell of a lot for dragging him out in the middle of the night."

"Yes, you do."

House moved from Anthony's lips to his jaw and down his neck. "Should probably go catch up to him. Offer to buy him dinner or something."

"Mm-hm…that'd be nice of you."

House stopped, lifting his head up to smirk at Anthony. "You manipulative bitch." He roughly kissed him one more time, pushing his tongue into Anthony's mouth and rolling it around before pulling back. "You _so_ owe me for that one."

"Me?" Anthony was all wide-eyed innocence, batting his eyes at House. "You did it, not me. I don't owe you anything."

"You're a bad influence." House's eyes sparkled teasingly as he bent down for one more small kiss. "See you later. _Apparently_ I owe my BFF some food. Or something."

Anthony chuckled as House grabbed his cane and strode out of the room and down the hall. He pulled his glasses and book out of his bag. "Love you." He murmured to the empty room.

# # #

**You all know the drill by now. I post, you read and review. :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you all once again for your reviews and such. It's nice to see so many people supporting this story. Once again, don't own 'em, just the O/Cs.**

# # #

Wilson had just gotten settled in on his couch with a book when he heard a familiar knock at the door. Groaning, he rolled off his couch to answer. He was in no mood for any of House's usual antics tonight.

"House, if you think…" Wilson stopped short when he saw House standing there, a serious expression on his face and a bag of take out in his hand. He automatically reached to his back pocket, checking that his wallet was still safely tucked away. "What's that?"

House rolled his eyes. "Stopped by the Thai place on my way home. Thought you might want some." He fixed Wilson with a steady gaze. "If you don't want it…"

"No, no…it's fine. Come in." Wilson was confused by this turn of events. In all the years he had known House, he had never known him to pay for anything, never mind bring it to his place. Something was up, it had to be.

House pushed past Wilson and dropped the bag on the coffee table, revealing a six-pack of beer. Wilson's eyebrows shot up as House pulled out two beers and lumbered off to the kitchen to put away the others. Food _and_ beer? Something was _definitely _funny here.

He folded his arms over his chest as House returned from the kitchen. House stopped mid-stride, an unreadable expression on his face. "What?"

"Food _and_ beer? What's going on?"

House shrugged. "I was hungry. Figured you would be, too. I also figured you wouldn't bother to make anything for yourself."

"How do you know I don't already have a delivery order coming?"

"Seriously?" House rolled his eyes as he crossed the room to plop onto the couch. "I didn't just meet you yesterday, you know."

House had a point, Wilson had to concede that. He sat down next to House, and the two proceeded to unpack the bag, finding the chopsticks and opening containers. Wilson's stomach rumbled, and House regarded him with an arched eyebrow. Wilson simply shrugged and pushed a button on the remote.

Spanish dialogue spilled out of the speaker, and House broke out into a grin. "Still watching this crap?"

"Yes." Wilson mumbled through a mouthful of noodles. "You wouldn't believe how much my Spanish has improved."

"And you've got the nerve to rag on me for my soap operas."

Wilson glared at House. "At least I haven't kidnapped any of the actors from my _telenovella_."

"Only because they're all the way in Mexico." House stirred up his fried rice thoughtfully, giving Wilson a sideways glance.

Wilson could feel House's eyes on him. Given recent developments, it made him vaguely uncomfortable. He sighed patiently and turned to look at House. "Something you want?"

House swallowed the bite he had in his mouth, not sure what to say. "I'm not hitting on you, if that's what you think."

Wilson rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Kind of figured that. So…?"

House set down his container and stood to pace around the room. Why was this suddenly so damned difficult? All he wanted to do was show a little appreciation. It shouldn't be so hard. He scrubbed his hand over his closely cropped hair, finally turning to Wilson.

"You've been a damn good friend to me." He finally started. "I can't figure out why, seeing as I've treated you like shit for most of our friendship." House huffed and leaned hard on his cane. "Seems like all I've ever done is taken from you. Maybe…maybe it's time for me to give you a little something back."

A slow smile crept onto Wilson's face. This was more like the House he knew, if a slightly improved version. "So…you're thanking me. Sort of."

"I guess." House shrugged. "Things have been kind of weird since…you know. The boy."

Wilson nodded. It seemed like they were going to pick up the thread of their aborted conversation from the other night. "Anthony. Yeah." He took a long drink of his beer before leaning back against the couch. "Talked to him a little today. He seems like a decent enough guy."

"Glad you approve." House snarked as he slowly made his way back to the couch, picking up his container once again.

They were briefly silent. Finally, Wilson's curiosity got the better of him. "I've just got to know…what changed?"

"Oh for God's sake." House placed his container on the coffee table with a loud thump. "Do we have to talk about this?!"

"_I_ do, House." Wilson leaned forward, setting his container next to House's. "I mean, all these years you've chased after Cuddy, and now…"

"It never would have worked between me and Cuddy." House spoke quietly, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, screwing the boss would have been exciting for a while, but…I would have broken her heart. She deserves better."

"You don't think you could give her what she needs." Wilson carefully studied House.

"I _know_ I can't." House leaned back against the couch, letting his neck arch over the back. "That kid of hers needs a dad, and Cuddy needs a guy who can be there for both of them. I'm not that guy. Never have been, never will be."

"I don't believe you." Wilson's voice dropped to match the volume of House's. "I saw how you were with Anthony. You're capable of being 'that guy'."

"Yeah…about that." House twisted his fingers together, a slow smirk growing on his face. "Bet that's got you all kinds of curious."

"It does." Wilson admitted. "That's a pretty major switch. Did I miss something?"

House's eyes crinkled in something like amusement. "Nah. I'm just damn good at hiding stuff."

"Tell me something I _don't _know."

"Anyway…" House glared over at Wilson. "When I was in…you know…we got to talking about the Cuddy thing. That led to other things, and we started talking about my thing for guys."

Wilson's eyebrows shot up. "That's one hell of a leap."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." House leaned forward and picked up his beer, taking a long drink. "You still want to know the answer to the fifty thousand dollar question?"

"Not really." Wilson took another pull from his beer. "I'd rather know what made you decide to go for Anthony."

"Don't know, exactly." House's eyes crinkled up slightly. "This is the part where I spout off some bullshit about opening myself up to possibilities, blah, blah, blah, right?"

"Or not." Wilson shrugged. "Up to you."

House took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks. His expression turned suddenly serious. "You know the crazy thing about all this?"

"Aside from the obvious?"

House snorted. "Yeah." He picked at the label on the beer bottle, finally lifting his head to meet Wilson's eyes. "Being with him…it just feels…right. I don't know how else to explain it."

Wilson nodded. "Guess that's all that really matters, then."

"You really think so?" House's voice turned soft, almost as if he was seeking approval.

Wilson thought about this for a moment. "Yes, I really think so."

House nodded slowly, his mouth quirking in a small grin. "Just for the record…You were pretty damn cute. You know, way back when."

Wilson scrunched his eyebrows together, baffled by the sudden change in subject. "You never let on. Why?"

House shrugged. "Having you as a friend was more important. Still is."

"I'm touched…I think."

"Good." House leaned back and set his feet on the coffee table. "Now…what the hell is that guy saying to her?"

Wilson gave House a funny look before diving into an explanation of the plot. Leave it to House to drop a big bomb like that and keep on rolling. On the other hand…it was good to know that the core of their friendship really hadn't changed at all. Wilson suddenly felt a whole lot better about things. He even believed that House could be 'that guy' for Anthony. It seemed to him he was already headed that way anyway.

# # #

The chiming phone in House's pocket startled him awake. He looked around, blinking, realizing he was still on Wilson's couch. His best friend was at the other end, head tilted back, snoring lightly. House dug his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.

"House."

"Hey you." House recognized Anthony's gentle voice almost immediately.

"Hey yourself." House grinned, checking his watch. "Kind of late for you to be up, isn't it?"

"Couldn't sleep." Anthony shrugged on the other end. "You ever manage to track down Wilson?"

"Yeah." House rose from the couch to make his way as quietly as he could to the kitchen. "Still here, matter of fact."

"Good." Anthony smiled at House's hushed tone.

"Yeah." House drummed his fingers on the counter. "We…had a good talk. Weird, but good. I think he's kind of cool with…whatever this is."

Anthony laughed at House's assessment of their relationship. "Simon's okay with it, too."

"That's good to know." House fell silent, not sure what to say next.

"Well…it's late. I should go." Anthony ventured hesitantly.

"Yeah. Me too." House paced around the kitchen. "Night, Tony."

"Night, Greg."

House closed his phone, turning it over in his hands. "Miss you, you idiot." He said softly.

"You say something, House?" Wilson's sleepy voice carried into the kitchen, and he appeared in the entryway, rubbing the back of his neck.

House's head snapped up at the sound of Wilson's voice, shoving the phone in his pocket. "Nah. Think I'm going to head home."

"Okay." Wilson stepped aside as House pushed through to the living room. He leaned against the entryway, watching his friend shove his feet into shoes and tug his jacket on.

"House?"

"Yeah?"

Wilson crossed the room, standing in front of House, finally daring to place a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks."

House seemed to squirm slightly, but didn't pull away. Instead he simply nodded firmly and turned to leave. He seemed to pause before turning the doorknob, a small smile creeping over his face. Finally he shook his head, opening the door and leaving.

Wilson chuckled slightly as he cleaned up and put away leftovers. Even now, it always amazed him how House could say so much without saying much at all. It had been good to see him, good to connect with him. Wilson was amazed at the way House had simply opened up to him, with barely any prodding. He wondered how much Anthony had to do with the whole thing. If that was the case…Wilson _definitely_ gave their relationship his blessing.

# # #

House lay in his bed, but sleep refused to come. He kept turning over his conversation with Wilson in his mind, still surprised at how open he had been with his best friend. The whole thing could have turned out differently, House knew that for certain.

It wasn't as if House _needed_ Wilson's approval, but he had definitely wanted it. House huffed and turned over on his side, irritated with his insecurity. The simple fact was, Wilson's opinion on things mattered greatly, and if he had somehow disapproved of what he had with Anthony…well, he didn't know what that would have meant.

Fortunately, it didn't seem like he'd have to find out anytime soon. House smiled a little to himself, turning over on his back. Eventually, if things kept going the way they were…somehow his mom would enter the picture. House groaned at the thought. Maybe she'd be so thrilled that he finally had someone in his life that she wouldn't worry about whether that someone was male or female.

Somehow House didn't see that happening, though. He scowled at the thought. Even thought his father was long gone, his influence was still evident in his dealings with his mother. There were times he swore the woman was channeling the old man on those rare occasions when House did speak to her.

House's phone vibrated on the bedside table, breaking him out of his train of thought. He reached over and flipped it open, laying back on the bed.

"House."

"Me again."

House chuckled. "You must be bored shitless there if you keep bugging me."

Anthony laughed softly in response. "Funny thing happened to me earlier."

"Really? Do tell."

"Well…I was digging through my bag today, and I saw you brought up my clothes. I appreciate that, by the way."

House shrugged. "No problem. Figured you might want them."

"One thing that struck me as odd, though…" Anthony grinned at the other end of the phone. "…I don't recall having a black t-shirt."

"Really?" House's voice took on a tone of mock innocence. "I must have mixed things up. It was kind of one big pile…"

"Ha, ha, ha." Anthony turned the shirt over in his hands, stroking the worn material affectionately. "I kind of like it. I might keep it."

"I don't know about all that…" House growled, reaching over for the green polo shirt he had tossed aside earlier. "Unless, of course, you don't want this green monstrosity back."

Anthony's face broke out into a wide grin. "Hey…my mom bought that for me. Of course I want it back."

House chuckled, a hint of evil slipping in. "Maybe I'll just hold it hostage until…" His voice took on a softer tone as he felt the material between his fingers. "…until I see you again."

Anthony's grin faded, replaced by a slightly serious expression. "Maybe I'll do the same."

House was silent, and Anthony thought he had hung up on him. "Greg?"

"Yeah, still here." House shifted slightly. "Just thinking. It's a good thing we're not terrorists. We'd suck at the whole hostage taking thing."

"Tell me about it." Anthony couldn't help but laugh at House's comment as he held the worn t-shirt to his nose, inhaling House's woodsy scent, blended with his own personal scent. "So…see you around?"

"Yeah." House could still smell Anthony's crisp scent emanating from the polo shirt. "I'll be around."

"Night, Greg."

"Night, Tony." House huffed. "Miss you." He mumbled.

Anthony couldn't quite believe what he heard. His lips curved up in a small smile. "I miss you, too. See you soon."

"Yeah." House quickly snapped his phone closed, cursing himself for his show of vulnerability. Emotional exposure just wasn't his thing, and he'd been exposing himself in spades recently. It was frightening.

That didn't mean he wasn't looking forward to seeing Anthony at some point tomorrow. House turned over to his side, glancing at the empty side of the bed, curling the shirt in to his chest, the oddly comforting scent finally allowing him to relax as he drifted off.

# # #

Cuddy noticed House stride through the lobby from her vantage point in the clinic. She picked up the case file and quickly moved to intercept him, her heels clicking on the tile floor.

House smelled her before he saw her, and turned to see Cuddy barreling toward him, a small smile on her face and a file in her hand. He raised his eyebrows and glanced down.

"Present for me?"

"32-year-old female presents with dizziness, intestinal distress, and vomiting."

House rolled his eyes. "Give her a pregnancy test and send her packing. Next?"

"Pregnancy test was negative." Cuddy smirked and slapped the file in his hand.

A light seemed to spark in House's blue eyes. Now he had something. He took the file, but Cuddy didn't let it go.

House frowned and tugged harder. "You know, if you want me to work…"

"We need to talk." Cuddy looked at him with intense blue-gray eyes.

"There's nothing to talk about." House told her curtly, finally tugging the file out her hand. "Now, if you don't mind…I have work for the minions to do."

The elevator doors opened, and House stepped on, Cuddy following directly behind him. House fixed her with a scathing glare. "You know, you're my third stalker this week. Not that I'm counting."

Cuddy took a deep breath, taking in the man that stood next to her. He had been a part of her life off and on for the better part of twenty years. Odd, then, that she never really knew this part of him. She vaguely remembered hearing rumors when she was at Michigan, but she mostly dismissed them then.

She wondered what had changed. Not that she wanted to pursue a relationship with House, necessarily, but…even at his most irritating, his most frustrating, Cuddy enjoyed their verbal sparring on some level. The way those blue eyes flashed when he argued with her over some insane test he wanted to do, the way he paced around her office as he ranted, even his scent when he leaned over her desk with some snarky comment about her chest…it was sexy, Cuddy couldn't deny that.

"Cat got your tongue?" That familiar voice snapped her out of her reverie. House was still glaring at her, waiting for a response.

Cuddy shook her head, smiling sweetly. "No, House." The elevator doors opened on the third floor, and Cuddy stepped off, turning to face House. "You're right. There's nothing to talk about."

She turned to walk away, and House tilted his head, watching her hips sway slightly as she did so. As the doors closed, he suddenly made a loud sound like a truck backing up.

"Forgot to put your 'Wide Load' sign on this morning, Cuddy?"

A smile curled Cuddy's lips as House's words reached her ears. House, in his own way, had let her know that all was right with the world. It was reassuring, in a very odd way. She glanced back briefly, seeing a ghost of a smirk on House's face, those blue eyes glinting in that familiar way.

Cuddy decided it was better this way. Trying to pursue a relationship with the man would have been impossible, no matter how it went. This way, both of them could maintain their lives and their jobs with their pride intact. No lines crossed, no lines so much as blurred.

House smirked to himself at Cuddy's reaction. She was still hot, no question, but definitely someone better admired from afar. There would be ample opportunity to check out her ample assets…later. Right now, he had a case to present and minions to harass.

# # #

**Okay, here's where I hand it over to all of you. Push the green button and give me your thoughts. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**This is where I insert my usual disclaimers. Don't own them. Never have, never will. I lay claim to any and all O/Cs.**

# # #

Anthony packed up his bag and personal effects, half listening to the neurologist as she rattled off the list of after care instructions.

"…and no strenuous activities until your next check up." Doctor Lillian Michaels flashed her patient a winning smile.

"You hear that, honey?" Simon loudly whispered. "No playing doctor with the doctor for a while." He shook his head. "He'll be so sad."

Doctor Michaels' smile faded slightly as she handed Anthony the clipboard. "Sign here, here…and here. Make sure to call and make a follow-up appointment with our office."

"Thank you." Anthony took the clipboard and signed on the appropriate lines, glaring at Simon. He handed back the clipboard, giving Doctor Michaels a warm smile. She tore off Anthony's copies and handed them to him, nodded to both men as she left the room. He turned to Simon, placing his hands on his hips. "Really, was that necessary?"

Simon huffed as he leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. "She was flirting with you. Someone had to set her straight, to turn a phrase."

Anthony grinned as he closed the flap on his messenger bag and lifted it over his head to cross his chest. "Aren't you the one who said I was irresistible?"

"And I was right." Simon smirked as the two men exited the room. He frowned at Anthony's black t-shirt. "Nice shirt."

Anthony glanced down, his expression softening. "Greg 'mixed up' our shirts when he was packing up my bag."

Simon stopped, shaking his head. "Uh, uh, uh. I _know _that look."

"And what look would that be?"

"The…" Simon fluttered his eyelashes and placed one hand on his chest. "…'he's in _looove_ with the boy' look."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Anthony grumbled, blushing furiously.

"Oh, you are _so_ transparent, honey." Simon rolled his eyes as they stepped on the waiting elevator. "You're almost as bad as he is."

"What do you mean?" Anthony furrowed his brow in concern.

"Well…I don't mean to tell on the man, but…" Simon's eyes gleamed, meaning he was dying to tell Anthony. "He was…very worried about you."

"He said that?"

"Oh, _hell_ no." Simon snorted. "But it was as plain as the bandage on your head."

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor, and three doctors stepped on. Anthony recognized the black man as Doctor Foreman, who had done his neurological exam the previous day. He was accompanied by a shorter man with a large nose and a larger bald spot and a pretty younger woman with feline features and thick, long hair that was pulled up in a ponytail.

Anthony nodded at Foreman and glanced at the other two doctors. Finally Foreman spoke.

"Going home?"

Anthony nodded. "Yep. Got the all clear this morning."

"Good."

The group rode in silence until Simon finally broke it. "You know, that doctor only said no _strenuous _activity. Surely your _personal_ physician could find a way around that."

Foreman looked at Simon as if he were crazy, the short doctor looked puzzled, and the young woman attempted to hide a snicker behind her hand.

"Simon…shut the hell up." Anthony hissed through clenched teeth. "Some of us aren't into having our business broadcast worldwide."

"Oh, ain't no shame in my game, honey." Simon looked Anthony up and down. The elevator opened on the ground floor, and House was waiting, earbuds in his ears, bobbing his head to some unknown rhythm. "The whole world's going to know in about five minutes anyway."

Anthony and Simon exited the elevator, and Anthony subtly brushed House's hand they crossed paths. House whipped around, pulling out his earbuds with one hand while stopping the elevator doors with his cane. He exited the elevator, hurrying to catch up with the two men.

The three doctors on the elevator simply watched in amusement. As the doors closed, Taub squinted suspiciously at House's retreating figure. "Does he…know them or something?"

Foreman crossed his arms over his chest, a satisfied smirk crossing his face. "Yeah, you could say that." He turned to the other doctor. "Fifty bucks says they're sleeping together."

"Who?"

"House and Head Bandage Guy."

Taub snickered. "You're on. There's no way."

"What about you, Remy? Are you in?"

Thirteen smiled widely and shook her head, remembering what she had seen from the clinic. "No way. You're not sucking me into that bet."

"Suit yourself." Foreman leaned back against the back of the elevator. If his suspicions were correct, and if House wasn't screwing with him, he had just made the easiest fifty bucks of his life.

# # #

House quickly caught up to Anthony and Simon in the lobby. He'd been so into his music that he almost missed them. He tapped Anthony on the calf with his cane to get his attention.

"Hey, boy." Anthony immediately turned around at the strident voice. "Going somewhere?"

He grinned, his bright green eyes lighting up. "Maybe." Anthony closed the distance between himself and House, reaching out to lightly touch House's wrist. "I got the all-clear, so Simon's taking me home."

House nodded, a slight frown wrinkling his brow. "Somebody hanging out with you?"

Anthony nodded, and Simon quickly interjected, "I've got the day shift covered. Sure could use someone to cover the night shift." He gave House a meaningful look.

House rolled his eyes, irritated with Simon's obvious interference. "Kind of got a case going today, but if you really need something…I could probably get away." He stepped closer to Anthony, awkwardly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Might be able to stop by if it's not too late."

Anthony nodded. "If you can, great. Don't put yourself out."

House frowned at Anthony's casual words. Finally he nodded, dropping his hand off his shoulder, briefly squeezing the younger man's fingers. The high-pitched beep of House's pager broke the awkward moment, and House immediately turned it off and pulled it from his belt. "Gotta fly. Patient's crashing." He furiously limped toward the elevator, calling out over his shoulder, "Find a different bandanna. Purple looks ridiculous on you."

Anthony smirked as House limped away, and he heard Simon snicker behind him. He rolled his eyes and turned to him.

"I know you've got something to say. Out with it."

"Nope, not a thing." Simon patted Anthony between his shoulder blades as they passed through the double doors to the outside. "Old Blue Eyes doesn't do PDAs, does he?"

"What's your point?" Anthony asked patiently.

"Oh, no point." Simon couldn't help but grin as they made their way to the parking lot. "Maybe he's just saving it up for…you know…"

"Simon, I know I keep saying this, but…you're a dog." Anthony glared at him as he climbed in the car. "Get your own man already. Maybe then you'll quit being so fascinated by my love life."

"Boy, please. You haven't even _had_ a love life to fascinate me in months." Simon gave Anthony a sideways look as he started the car. "I think he really cares about you."

"Really."

"Mm-hm. He was pretty rattled when I called him looking for you." Simon turned out of the parking lot toward Anthony's apartment. "And…he was looking a hot mess when I showed up. Which tells me…"

"…Nothing. It tells you nothing." Anthony growled in irritation. "Mind your own business, will you?"

Simon's face lit up in a grin. "Funny…that's almost exactly what he told me. Only he dropped a nice little f-bomb in there, too. Must be some business to mind…"

Anthony sighed in frustration. Not only was Simon acting like a dog, he was acting like a dog with a bone. He just wouldn't let go. Anthony was tempted to give him the details. _All _of them. Maybe then he would be so mortified that he would quit hounding him.

Somehow, that didn't seem likely. Simon's harassment seemed like a pretty high price to pay for a little extra help at home. Suddenly he hoped that House would hurry the hell up and solve his case. His company would surely be a hell of a lot more welcome.

# # #

House was sitting in his office at the end of the day, checking over the chart on the patient the team had started working on that morning.

The woman had a bug in her ear. Literally. A tick had crawled inside her ear and worked its way down her ear canal, biting her and triggering her symptoms. She would be fine after a couple rounds of IV antibiotics. House shook his head as he closed the chart, making sure Foreman had signed off on it, preparing to take it to Cuddy's office.

He logged off his computer and picked up his backpack and cane, turning off the lights in his office as he turned toward the elevators. Wilson was standing at the elevators as he approached, and he greeted House with a nod.

"Done already?"

"Yep." House tapped his cane on the floor as he waited. "Bug in the ear. Pretty simple once Taub noticed the woman shaking her head like a dog."

"Huh." Wilson scrunched his eyebrows. "Doing anything tonight?"

"Thought I'd go see Tony. They finally let him out today."

"That's good." The elevator doors opened, and the two men stepped onto the elevator. The only other passenger was a short, curvy woman. Her red hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her head, and a few tendrils had worked their way out, framing her face.

Wilson noticed her first, and House noticed Wilson noticing her. He nudged the younger doctor, gesturing her way. "She new?"

Wilson acted flustered. "How should I know?"

The woman smiled to herself, listening to the two men whisper amongst themselves. She pretended to ignore them as they continued, the older man nagging the younger one.

"So introduce yourself. She's kind of hot." The older man continued harassing the younger man.

"Like you'd know." The younger man rolled his eyes.

"Just go talk to her." The older man sounded annoyed. He lifted his head. "Excuse me. My friend here is having a sudden fit of shyness. Damned if I know why. Do him a favor and introduce yourself, would you?"

The woman smiled, closing the brief distance to extend a hand to Wilson. "Doctor Lillian Michaels, Neurology."

Wilson looked her over before extending his own hand. "Doctor James Wilson, Oncology."

Michaels tilted her head. "Tough specialty. Takes a special kind of person."

Wilson found himself suddenly tongue tied. House finally huffed in exasperation and spoke up. "Oh trust me, he's special, all right." He poked Wilson in the side. "Ask the nice lady if she's free tonight, Wilson."

"You'll have to forgive my friend. He's got a new man in his life, so he figures everyone needs to hook up." Wilson couldn't resist the dig, hoping like hell he could embarrass House just enough to get him off his case.

He had no such luck. House grinned, switching his cane to his left hand, extending a hand to Michaels. "Doctor Gregory House, head of diagnostics and recently out bisexual."

Wilson simply covered his eyes with his hands as House continued. "My friend Wilson, on the other hand? Straight as the proverbial arrow. Single, too." He tilted his head at Michaels. "You could do worse than him."

Michaels couldn't help but laugh at the antics of the two doctors as she shook the older doctor's hand. Soon the door opened to the ground floor, and Wilson gestured for Michaels to exit in front of him.

"You'd better go after her." House murmured. "You're about to lose her."

Wilson briefly glanced at House. House rolled his eyes. "Go on, get the hell out of here. Get a goddamn life already."

Wilson shrugged regarding House skeptically before finally briskly striding to catch up to Michaels. House hung back, watching the two chat, Wilson hanging back slightly as Michaels tucked those few tendrils of red hair behind her ear. Finally, the pair left together, chatting easily.

House smirked and popped his earbuds in, cranking up his I Pod as he followed behind. He hiked his backpack over his shoulder, pulling his sunglasses out of his jacket pocket and slipping them on his face as he limped out into the late evening sun. It was time to drop by for a visit with his 'new man', as Wilson had so kindly referred to Anthony. He grinned at the thought, simply looking forward to the company. House honestly hoped that Wilson would get something out of his evening. Maybe then he'd quit worrying so damn much about House.

# # #

Anthony rolled off the couch when he heard the oddly familiar sound of wood tapping wood, only to be stopped by an overprotective Simon.

"Stay put, honey. I'll get it." Simon peeked through the peephole, his face lighting into a grin when he saw who was knocking. "Old Blue Eyes is back. Should I let him in?"

"Duh." Anthony rolled his eyes and resumed stretching out on his couch, adjusting his bandanna.

Simon opened the door, and House limped through, backpack slung over his shoulder, taking off his shades and sticking them in his pocket. It reminded Anthony of their first lunch date, when House had been so nervous.

He looked anything but nervous now. House dropped his backpack by the door and removed his jacket, hanging it on the hook near the door and toeing off his running shoes.

Simon's mouth twitched in a slight smile. He quickly gathered his things and gave Anthony a quick hug. "I'll just be on my way. See you in the morning, hon." Simon turned to smirk at House. "See you in the morning, too."

House rolled his eyes as Anthony chuckled at Simon. "Bye, Simon. Take care."

"Yeah, don't bother calling. Nobody's going to answer it anyway." House snarked.

Simon glared at both of them before leaving. "No strenuous activity. Doctor's orders." He turned his eye specifically to House. "And that goes double for you."

"No promises." House quipped as Simon rolled his eyes and left. House limped over to the couch, sitting heavily at one end and resting his cane against the arm. "You know what? I don't think he likes me very much."

"He likes you just fine." Anthony settled in on the other end, picking up his DVD remote. "He's just kind of…obsessively caring."

"Yeah, I've got one of those friends, too." House scooted a little closer, his long fingers tracing patterns over the back of Anthony's hand. "I had to hook Wilson up with some woman in the elevator just to get him off my back."

Anthony laughed heartily. "You didn't."

"I did." House answered proudly. "With any luck, he should be into his…" House glanced at his watch. ""…second drink by now. He'll be taking the woman home any time, and maybe, just maybe, he'll show up happy tomorrow."

Anthony gave House a quizzical look and shook his head. "You've just got this all figured out, don't you?"

"Nope. I just know Wilson." House pulled his phone out of his pocket. "You eat yet?"

"Not yet." Anthony turned over his hand, capturing House's trailing fingers with his own. "So who's the woman?"

"I'll call for pizza." House found the number on his speed dial and hit 'send'. "Any requests?"

"No green peppers, no mushrooms, _lots_ of anchovies."

House glared at him. "You're sick. Nobody likes anchovies."

"Fine." Anthony's green eyes teased House. "Skip the anchovies."

House placed the order and snapped his phone closed. He jumped up from the couch, returning with his backpack, opening it and digging through it. Finally he produced a black bandanna with red and orange flames, folding it and turning to Anthony. "Take off that silly damn thing."

Anthony took off the purple bandanna, revealing the shaved and bandaged section of his head. House paused, lightly tracing over the bandaged section with one finger. Anthony heard him sigh before he placed the other bandanna on his head, carefully pulling it around and tying it in the back.

"There." Anthony felt House tuck his arms under his and wrap them carefully around his chest, pressing a small kiss to the back of his neck. "Now you look a little more manly."

Anthony chuckled softly and placed his hands on House's. "Are the flames intentional?"

House snorted. "Didn't even think about it. I just figured the flames would make you look like you were going faster."

"You're funny."

"Worked when I had my bitchin' flame cane."

"Seriously?!"

"Yep." House answered with pride. "Found it in some secondhand shop."

"Why don't you use it now?"

House's voice turned soft, almost nostalgic. "Lost it in an accident sometime last year."

"Sorry to hear it."

"Doesn't matter now." House huffed as he released Anthony, brushing his stomach with his hands. The doorbell rang, heralding the arrival of the pizza. "Got it."

House soon returned with the pizzas, and Anthony went to the kitchen to retrieve plates and napkins. Soon they were settled in on the couch, watching a DVD of Mystery Science Theater, debating the merits of Joel versus Mike as host.

"Joel's _classic_, Tony." House was passionately arguing his point. "Mike's a good writer, I'll give you that, but he's got no chemistry with the Evil Ones."

"Joel's _boring_. Sorry, Greg." Anthony was equally passionate. "Mike's got plenty of chemistry. And the bits with Bobo? Priceless."

House rolled his eyes. "Bobo is beyond lame. They should have killed the series when they killed off Frank and Forrester."

Anthony looked over at House, chuckling at their silly debate. House, he was quickly finding out, was a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with. He was quick, smart, passionate, everything he could hope for in a guy.

House arched an eyebrow at Anthony. "Something on my face?"

Anthony smiled slightly. "Yeah. You've got a little something right…" He reached up to wipe a bit of sauce from the corner of House's mouth with his thumb. "…there."

"Good looking out, boy." House's voice went soft as he set his plate aside to watch Anthony lick the bit of sauce off his thumb. _Something so simple shouldn't be so damned sexy_, House thought as he leaned in, brushing Anthony's lips with his own thumb.

The action caused Anthony's breath to catch in his throat. His green eyes darted over House's face, and he reached up to stroke House's temple, cupping his face in his hand.

Those beautiful blue eyes closed, and House's lips pressed against Anthony's as he gently guided him to lay down against the arm of the couch. House left his mouth to trail down his neck, his hands finding their way up his shirt.

He heard Anthony's breathing increase, and he looked up to study him carefully. "You okay?"

"Mm-hm.." Anthony's eyes were closed, his hand running over House's head. "I've got a bed, too, you know."

"You don't say." House placed a brief kiss where Anthony's collarbones met. "You're not going to pass out and throw up on me this time, are you?"

Anthony chuckled softly. "I'll try not to."

"Good enough, boy." House pushed himself off Anthony, offering the younger man a hand up. He waved House off.

"Go ahead. I'll clean up a bit and be right there."

A ghost of a smile played at House's lips as he picked up his cane and headed down the hall. He figured he wouldn't have any problem making sure Anthony didn't strain himself…too much.

# # #

**Here's the bit where you read and review. :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Still don't own them, but that's okay. At least I still get to play with them. O/Cs are all mine.**

# # #

Anthony made his way from the living room to the kitchen, putting away leftover pizza and setting plates in the sink before turning out the lights and heading down the hallway. He briefly stopped at the bathroom to change into lounge pants before padding into the bedroom.

House was already there, his lean figure stretched out on the bed, clad in his t-shirt and flannel plaid sleep pants, feet crossed at the ankles, eyes closed. He looked calm, peaceful, almost child-like, his rugged features taking on a softness Anthony was sure very few people ever saw. Anthony climbed in at the end of the bed, sidling up next to him, tracing the contours of his face with one finger.

One blue eye slowly opened, and a slow smile crept onto House's face, changing the contours of his expressive face once again. He reached out and took Anthony's hand, stroking it with his thumb before placing a light kiss in the palm.

He heard Anthony's breath catch slightly in his throat, the bright green eyes widening slightly in surprise before relaxing into a lopsided grin. "Playing possum, I see. Should have known."

"Guilty." House smirked as he continued trailing up Anthony's palm, his tongue darting out to leave a moist trail up his wrist and the inside of his arm, slowly rolling Anthony over as he did so, finally ending at the sleeve of his t-shirt.

House studied Anthony's face in the faint light that crept through the bedroom window. Anthony's eyelids fluttered, and his lips were slightly parted, his breath coming out in short pants. His hand crept to the small of House's back, the fingers spreading out as his thumb lightly stroked his spine.

It was unbelievably erotic, and House attempted to wrap his rational mind around the idea. One time with this man could be construed as an experiment, albeit a very enjoyable one. A second time, or possibly more...that went beyond the experimental stage. He didn't know what to think of that.

Anthony noticed the frowning, thoughtful look on House's face. It was almost as if he had caught House in the middle of a life-or-death decision. For some reason, Anthony found it vaguely amusing. He knew that House was a rational man, one who valued reason and logic above all else. This…thing between them followed neither.

House frowned when he saw Anthony's amused expression. "Something funny?"

"You." Anthony slipped his hand from House's back and placed both hands on his face. "This isn't one of your medical mysteries."

House tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Anthony sighed and rolled his eyes. "I mean…you don't need to analyze this to death. You want it…I want it. Kind of a no-brainer."

House leaned down until he was nearly nose to nose with Anthony. "No fair using my own words against me."

"Life's never fair, Greg." Anthony moved his hands to the small of House's back, evoking a small gasp and growl from the older man. "Get used to it."

"Rather get used to this." House softly growled, leaning down to capture Anthony's lips in a deep kiss, forcefully pushing his tongue into the younger man's mouth, tangling sweetly with his. He left Anthony's lips and started down his jaw, feeling the rough stubble against his lips as he moved down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt, taking in the mix of their scents that emerged from Anthony and House's shirt that he still wore.

Anthony was right, of course. There was no point in analyzing this. House shut off the rational part of his brain as he pushed up Anthony's t-shirt up and over his head, tugging it off his body and tossing it aside. His hands spread out along the sides of his stomach as he pressed a trail of kisses from Anthony's waist up to his chest, moving to take a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, evoking a sharp gasp from the younger man.

"Jesus, Greg." Anthony's voice sounded rough, even to his own ears. He clutched the back of House's head, running his hand over the closely cropped hair, his other hand finding the bottom hem of his t-shirt. As House moved back down his body, Anthony took the hem of the shirt in both hands and pulled it over House's head, returning to feel the muscle flex under his skin.

House murmured something indecipherable and quickly untied Anthony's lounge pants, slipping his hand just inside, gently exploring, teasing with his touch. Anthony shifted just enough to allow House to slip off his pants, losing himself in the feel of House's hands and mouth, moaning softly as he succumbed to the pleasure he was receiving.

"Greg…" Anthony's voice reached House's ears, and he thought he detected the same note of alarm from the other night. He briefly lifted his head at the sound.

"You alright?" The words ran together, and House's voice sounded ragged.

Anthony let out a strangled growl and grabbed the back of House's head. "_Yes._ Don't. Stop."

House grinned and returned to his ministrations, feeling Anthony's body tense up before relaxing with a loud exhale.

Anthony closed his eyes, feeling House slide back up to curl up around him, pressing a firm kiss to his jaw. He softly laughed and pulled House close to him.

"Didn't take too much out of you, did I?" House murmured in his ear, lightly nipping his earlobe, wincing when he felt Anthony's earrings in his mouth.

"Nope." Anthony lightly caressed House's ribcage, his breathing finally returning to normal. "Feels just right."

"Good." House moved to leave a kiss on his neck, and Anthony reached down to untie his pants, slipping his hand just inside the waistband. "Uh-uh, boy." House caught his hand with his own, gently pushing it away. "Roll over."

Anthony's heart jumped a little. "Are you sure?"

"Wouldn't tell you to if I wasn't."

"Fair enough." Anthony rolled onto his stomach, House close behind, leaving a trail of kisses down the back of his neck. He noticed a tattoo on Anthony's right shoulder, and he traced over it with his fingers, making a quick mental note to ask him about it later…much later.

House could feel his pulse pounding in his ears. He was about to venture into unknown territory, and it unnerved him. His hands shook as he brushed his lips along Anthony's shoulder, lightly moving up and down his ribcage.

Anthony shifted slightly, and House heard a drawer open. He pressed a small object into his hand. "You'll probably want one of these."

"Uh…right. Thanks." House muttered, cursing himself for his sudden case of nerves. What the hell had he been _thinking_? Oh, that's right, he hadn't been.

"You're analyzing again." Anthony murmured under him.

"So what if I am?" House spoke softly, inhaling his scent.

Anthony turned over, tracing the lines in House's forehead with his thumb. "You know…there are other ways…"

"You think I don't know that?" House growled roughly, closing his eyes at Anthony's gentle touch. "I'm not a damned idiot."

"_I _know that." Anthony gently caressed House's face, ending with a finger on his chin. "It's what I like about you. That being said…don't feel like you _have_ to do anything."

Which, of course, was precisely the problem. It wasn't a matter of 'have-to'. It was a matter of 'want-to', and House suddenly desperately wanted to. He quickly rolled Anthony over, roughly pressing his lips into his shoulder, nipping at the back of his neck.

The sudden roughness surprised Anthony, even as it thrilled him. House's hands and mouth roamed over his back in a furious expression of passion and desperation, as if he were blindly following a path with no knowledge of his eventual destination.

"Take your time." Anthony could barely catch his breath with all the flurry of activity.

"Don't want to." He heard crinkling behind him, and he felt House press against him, wrapping an arm around his waist, his chest heaving against his back.

House pressed his forehead against the back of Anthony's neck, holding the younger man as close to him as he could, the rush of the moment taking him over as he finally relaxed, releasing Anthony and placing a gentle kiss in the space between his shoulder and his neck.

"Sorry." He finally muttered, some part of him returning to reality, realizing exactly what he had done.

Anthony turned his head, pulling House to him for a brief kiss on his lips. "Don't you dare apologize for that."

House finally seemed to relax, his face turning from serious to a slow smile. "It's kind of like losing my virginity all over again." He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm too old for this shit."

"Can't tell." Anthony turned over with him, laying across his chest.

House closed his eyes, one arm wrapped around Anthony's back, the other lightly caressing the arm that stretched across his chest. Everything about this just felt so right, so perfect. It scared him. He wondered, just for a moment, what it might be like to have a real relationship with Anthony.

Obviously he wasn't thinking clearly right now. It was the only logical explanation for his line of thought. He huffed impatiently and held Anthony a little closer, causing the younger man to stir.

"Everything okay?" He murmured sleepily.

"Yeah." House continued his light caress. "Just thinking."

"Well…quit it." Anthony snuggled a little closer to House. "Plenty of time for that later."

"Can't help it. It's kind of my thing."

"I know." Anthony laid his head on House's chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat as he spread out his hand along his stomach.

Anthony's simple acknowledgement meant the world to House. Finally, someone had come into his life who simply accepted him as he was. No disapproval, no disappointment, no judgement. So this is what it felt like. House had always wondered.

He heard Anthony's breathing even out as the younger man fell asleep, his warm breath coming out in puffs on his chest. Yeah, this was right, this was good. For once, House didn't feel the need to rationalize a damn thing.

# # #

Anthony was setting up the coffeemaker the next morning when he heard House lumber in, scowling and squinting in the gray light of the morning. It would have been endearing if he didn't look so upset about something.

"What's going on?" Anthony pressed the button to start the coffee and turned to lean against the counter.

"Leg hurts." House managed to lumber over to grab a coffee mug from the dish drainer.

Anthony nodded, carefully crafting his response. House had made it clear that he didn't want sympathy for much of anything, and this seemed no different. "You have something for it?"

House glared briefly before nodding. "I'll take it in a minute." He closed his eyes against the throbbing, stinging pain.

"Where is it? I'll grab it." Anthony offered.

Normally House would have snapped at any offer of assistance, but he was hurting too badly to turn Anthony down. "Outside pocket of my backpack."

Anthony quickly found House's backpack still by the couch where he had dropped it last night. "There's two bottles in here. Which one do you want?"

"Both." House's voice became ragged as he leaned against the counter.

Anthony set both bottles near House before turning his attention to the coffeemaker. "You take sugar in yours, right?"

"Yeah."

Soon House found a cup of coffee next to his prescription bottles. He popped the caps and took one pill out of each bottle, washing them down with the strong, sweet brew. Finally the pain abated to something a little more manageable, and he made his way out to the living room to join Anthony on the couch.

He fixed House with a bright smile, his green eyes flashing. "Better?"

"Yeah." House took a long sip of his coffee, absentmindedly rubbing his thigh.

"Good." Anthony ventured to place a hand between House's shoulder blades, rubbing lightly. House dropped his head, emitting a low growl in response. "Is that a 'keep going' growl, or a 'leave me alone' growl?"

"Trust me, you'd figure out the difference." House turned his head toward Anthony, who was regarding him with a slightly crinkled brow. "I'm fine. Just hurting a little more than usual."

_So that's what all that tossing and turning was about._ "This happen a lot?"

"No, but…when it hits…" House's voice trailed off. "Hits pretty damn hard."

"I can't even imagine." Anthony moved closer, setting his hands on House's shoulders. He felt the older man tense under him, but he didn't move.

House squirmed under Anthony's touch, every instinct screaming at him to push Anthony away. How could he possibly explain the sleepless nights, the nights he spent pacing around his apartment attempting to will the raging pain away, the exhaustion of body and spirit that made him lash out at everyone he came in contact with? It was one thing to snap and snarl at his team, Cuddy, the morons in the clinic, even Wilson, but House knew there would come a time when he would take his anger and frustration at his situation out on Anthony, and he knew he would feel like shit for it. He also knew there would be nothing he could do to stop it, and eventually, Anthony would have enough of it all and he would bail out, and House would be alone. Again. Or still. Whatever.

"Greg?" House felt Anthony's hands knead gently at his shoulders. His touch felt so good, so right. Finally something in him let go, and he relaxed, setting his elbows on his thighs, his forehead against his clasped hands. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." It pained House to admit that. Not two minutes ago he had wanted to push Anthony away, to protect him from House's special brand of pain-induced insanity. Now…he just didn't know.

"Okay." Anthony shifted away, brushing his hand along House's upper back as he did so.

House lifted his head, puzzled by Anthony's reaction. "What, no 'we need to talk' or 'you need to talk about this'?"

Anthony simply shrugged before picking up his coffee cup. "If you want to, you will, and if you don't…there's nothing I can do or say that will make you."

House sat back on the couch, processing Anthony's words. Finally, someone who got it. He reached out and briefly squeezed Anthony's hand before rising from the couch.

"Going to hit the shower. Some of us still have a job to go to." House's voice was rough, but his blue eyes had regained a bit of that teasing sparkle.

He soon reemerged, pulling out the travel mug and setting it on the coffee table before packing up the rest of his backpack. Anthony picked it up and took it to the kitchen with his own mug, filling both of them.

House limped into the kitchen, backpack slung over his shoulder and cane in his hand. He picked up the travel mug and slipped an arm around Anthony, the cane pressing into his hip. "You going to be okay until Simon gets here?"

"What did I tell you about that fussing thing?" Anthony chuckled and returned the hug, pressing a kiss to House's cheek.

"Not fussing." House snarked as he limped toward the door. "I'll stop by later…if that's okay."

"Of course."

House nodded firmly and stepped out the door, leaving Anthony alone in the apartment. Suddenly the place felt oddly quiet and empty. It surprised Anthony how quickly he had gotten used to House's presence. He was a forceful, almost abrasive personality, and yet, Anthony genuinely enjoyed his company, both in and out of his bed.

He smiled to himself as he finished the last of his coffee, taking both their mugs to the sink. Another evening spent with House didn't sound like such a bad thing at all.

# # #

**Kind of a short one, for me, anyway. I'd still like to know what you think. Push the button. :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry for the delay, folks. Writer's block and real life sure can get in the way. As usual, I don't own anything House-related, just the O/Cs.**

# # #

House limped heavily through the lobby, still feeling the aftereffects of his pain episode that morning. Between the pain and lack of sleep, he was feeling distinctly fuzzy as he approached the elevators. It looked like it might be an easy day today, unless something interesting came in from either the clinic or the ER, and House was profoundly grateful.

He stepped onto the waiting elevator and rode upstairs, sipping his coffee and listening to his I Pod, humming to himself as his mind went over the morning's events. Anthony had been…sweet. That was the only word House could come up with to adequately describe his actions. He had shown concern, but not in an overbearing way. It was different, an anomaly, and House didn't do anomalies.

House set that mystery aside in favor of another one when the elevator opened and he spotted Wilson passing by on his way to his office. He grinned and turned left instead of right, following Wilson.

He caught the door with his cane just before Wilson closed it, startling the younger doctor. Wilson simply looked exasperated as he sat heavily behind his desk. To House, Wilson looked like he was running a little short in the sleep department himself. He must have had a good night with…Michaels? Yeah, that was her name, the hot redhead he had hooked Wilson up with in the elevator the previous evening.

House plopped himself down on Wilson's couch, waiting for a good opening. Finally Wilson lifted his head, taking a long drink from his coffee mug.

"Something you want, House?"

"The dirt, of course." House smirked and leaned forward, setting his travel mug on the floor and his backpack beside him. He thumped his cane on the floor between his legs while Wilson visibly squirmed.

"It was…" Wilson paused to consider things, not sure how much detail he was willing to share with House. "…nice."

House rolled his eyes. "You don't come in looking like death warmed over because things were 'nice'. Now come on. I'll tell mine if you tell yours."

"What makes you think I want to know yours?" Wilson shot back, glancing at House's travel mug. "Although I have some idea."

House picked up the travel mug, taking a long drink. "Maybe so, maybe not. Now spill."

Wilson leaned back in his desk chair with a huff. "She's…interesting. We went out for coffee, got to talking…coffee turned into dinner." A small smile tugged at the corners of Wilson's mouth. "It was a good night."

House's eyes narrowed, and Wilson knew he was digging for more. This time, there honestly was nothing more to the story. He and Michaels had definitely connected, and if the long good night kiss at her front door was any indication, there would be much more connecting to come.

Finally House nodded, seemingly satisfied with Wilson's version of events. He picked up his travel mug and backpack, heaving himself from the couch and limping toward the door. Wilson tilted his head in concern.

"Are you okay? You seem a little…"

"Fine, thanks." House snapped, more out of habit than actual annoyance. "Things got a little wild last night. Turns out Tony really is a tiger. Growl." He waggled his eyebrows in amusement and limped out of Wilson's office, leaving a thoroughly stunned Wilson behind him.

Wilson put his head in his hands as House quietly closed the door behind him. It quickly opened again, and House poked his head inside, an expression of mock innocence on his face.

"Did I tell you he had a tattoo?"

Wilson fixed him with a withering look. The man genuinely seemed to enjoy making him uncomfortable. "Really."

"Yep. Right shoulder. Couldn't tell what it was, seeing as it was dark and all…"

"That's _great_, House." Wilson nearly shouted in exasperation. "Thank you _so_ much for sharing."

"Anytime." House grinned as he left. "See you for lunch?"

"Sure."

The office door closed once again, and Wilson leaned back in his desk chair. He couldn't help but chuckle at House's antics. Things seemed to be looking up for both of them on the love front. It had the potential to be a beautiful thing for both of them.

# # #

Foreman was sitting in the conference room, researching an article he was writing, when he heard House push through the office door. He checked his watch, surprised to see his boss before ten o'clock.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Foreman muttered, mostly to himself.

Taub turned from the coffeemaker, arching an eyebrow. "I'm guessing that…he works here. Just like us."

Foreman glared at the plastic surgeon. "No kidding. I mean…he's never here this early."

"Yes…a whole fifteen minutes early. I can see why you're suspicious." Taub took a drink of his coffee, observing House dump his backpack on the floor and hang up his jacket. "I'm going down to the clinic. Let me know if House does anything else crazy, like…paperwork."

Foreman rolled his eyes at Taub as he left and returned to the laptop, still observing House's behavior. He seemed to be walking a little slower than normal, but the tension that would normally accompany his slower movements was noticeably absent.

His curiosity got the better of him, and Foreman rose from his chair to enter House's office. House was sitting down at his desk, drinking from his travel mug and scrolling through his e-mails. He glanced up when he heard Foreman walk in.

"Something you want?" House gave Foreman a cool look over his glasses.

Foreman folded his arms over his chest and regarded House with equal coolness. "You're here early, and you're hurting, but you're not miserable and cranky over it."

House merely raised his eyebrows in response. "I can be a miserable bastard if you want…"

Foreman rolled his eyes. "Forget it. For whatever reason, you're…happy." A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "That's it. You're happy." He smirked and turned back to the conference room, connecting the dots. Taub had definitely lost fifty bucks.

House smirked to himself as Foreman left. He couldn't believe Foreman was going to so much trouble just to win a small bet with Taub. He heaved himself out of his chair and poked his head through the conference room door.

"You know, you really should have bet Taub more than fifty bucks. Might make all your snooping around a little more worthwhile."

House was gone before Foreman could respond. Foreman simply shook his head. He should have known that House would find out about the bet. If he knew House, he'd make it twice as difficult now. He returned to his research, setting the mystery of his boss aside. If he was happy, he didn't really want to know why. It made his job easier, and that's all that really mattered.

# # #

House wandered down to the ER, pawing through the case files in search of something interesting. His coffee had finally kicked in, and he was feeling restless.

Cameron spotted him almost immediately, striding over to take the file out of House's hand. "What are you doing down here?"

House shrugged. "I had all this time to kill after I caught up on my clinic hours…"

Cameron laughed lightly and shook her head. "You will retire from here with a backlog of clinic hours. Why are you really here?"

House huffed impatiently. "Fine…you busted me. Anything interesting pass through those doors lately?"

"Sorry. Nothing but the usual broken bones and car accident victims." Cameron smiled as she signed off on the chart she was holding. She briefly studied House, noting how little weight he rested on his right leg. "Everything okay?"

"Fine. Couldn't be better." House rocked slightly, gingerly testing out his leg.

Cameron tilted her head. "How's Anthony?"

House froze, debating how to answer Cameron. She would expect a smartass response, and normally he would have happily given her one. For some reason, he just didn't have it in him today. Finally, his face twisted in a half smile as he glanced down at the floor. "Doing good, last I checked."

"And when was that?"

House pretended to ponder the question before answering. "Oh, you know…last night…this morning." He looked up at Cameron, gauging her reaction.

Cameron placed the chart in the rack and leaned forward, looking House directly in the eye. "You really like this guy, don't you?"

House scowled, tapping his cane on the floor. Damn that Cameron, anyway. "So what if I do?"

"Then it's a _good _thing. You're obviously…" Cameron searched for the right word. "…better. Enjoy it already."

House merely shook his head. He and Anthony had possibilities, but there were just so damned many what-ifs. The doubts made it difficult to just relax and let things happen. "Well, hey. Been nice chatting but…going to meet Wilson for lunch. He's buying."

"See you later, House." Cameron chuckled a little as House lumbered away. Even though House had always played close to the chest with anything personal, somehow little signs and clues would always slip through. It was obvious from the way House had treated Anthony in the ER that night that he felt something for him. That look in his eyes as he stroked the younger man's head…Cameron hadn't seen that since Stacy.

House was falling, there was no doubt of that. The only question in Cameron's mind was whether House would let himself keep falling. She hoped he would. He really did seem better these days, and it was a trend she wanted to see continue.

# # #

Wilson and House were settled into their booth in the cafeteria, chatting easily, House stealing fries from Wilson's plate. It amazed Wilson how quickly they had fallen back into their usual routine in spite of everything. Wilson found it oddly comforting.

"So Cameron busted me earlier." House spoke casually as he popped the last bite of his Reuben in his mouth.

"Doing what?" Wilson was immediately suspicious.

"Nothing much." House reached across for another French fry. "Just poking around for a new case. Then, out of nowhere, she asks me about the boy."

Wilson nodded sagely. "Go on."

House looked annoyed. "She says…'you, like, totally like him.'"

"She did not." Wilson couldn't help but laugh at House's Valley Girl imitation of Cameron .

"Well…maybe not like that, but still. You get the idea." House rolled his eyes. "I hate it when she does that."

"Yes…it's almost as if she knows you or something." Wilson finished his own sandwich. "So she called you on the truth. It's not the first time."

"This is different." House mumbled around a mouthful of fries, his eyes downcast, his expression thoughtful. He shook his head and lifted his eyes. "Anyway…did I tell you about this guy in the clinic…"

His voice trailed off when he saw Wilson look past him. House turned to see Michaels walking up to their table with her lunch tray. He smirked at Wilson and stole one last fry before pushing himself out of his seat, offering it to Michaels.

Both she and Wilson raised their eyebrows in surprise. "House, that's very sweet of you, but you don't have to go." Michaels ventured.

"Actually, I do." House gave Wilson a small wink as he passed. "I'm up to my eyeballs in sick people."

Wilson was speechless. This was so outside the norm for House that he didn't know what to think. Finally he shook his head. He would wind up with such a headache if he tried too hard to analyze his friend's behavior. Instead, he decided to be grateful for small favors and turned his attention to Michaels.

She was looking exceptionally lovely today, and Wilson found himself speechless for an entirely different reason. Michaels had decided to wear her red hair down today, and it swept just past her shoulders in slight waves. Wilson had a sudden vision of that hair brushing over him as…he immediately checked himself at the thought, feeling a bit of heat rushing to his cheeks.

"Are you okay?" Michaels was studying him, puzzled and amused at the same time.

"Fine, fine. Just surprised to see you, that's all. Pleasantly surprised, mind you." Wilson couldn't figure out why the hell he was so nervous, but he seemed powerless to stop it.

Michaels smiled to herself. Wilson really was quite adorable, even more so when he was a nervous wreck. She reached across the table to place her delicate hand over his. "That was nice of House to leave us alone. Is he always like that?"

"God, no." Wilson laughed nervously, enjoying the feel of Michaels' soft hand over his. He turned his hand over, lightly stroking her fingers with his thumb. "Normally I'd have to bribe him heavily to get him to go away, and even then, there'd be no guarantee that he'd go."

"Wow." Michaels was impressed. "He must really care about you."

"What makes you say that?"

Michaels sighed. For such a smart guy, Wilson could be pretty clueless. "Think about it. You two are obviously close. The fact that he's giving you some space when he normally wouldn't should tell you something."

"Oh, it does." Wilson nodded in agreement. "I just wish I knew _what_ it told me."

"Maybe you should stop worrying about it and just enjoy it." Michaels briefly squeezed Wilson's hand before letting it go. "So…are we still on for Chinese and Hitchcock tonight?"

Wilson looked visibly relieved. "Absolutely. Pick you up at eight?"

"Sounds good to me." Michaels finished her sandwich and rose from the booth. "See you then."

Wilson watched her go, her voluptuous figure swaying slightly as she did so. He felt the weight he had been carrying for months start to lift, just a little, and he allowed himself to feel hopeful for both himself and House.

He was still puzzled by House's behavior, but he was willing to put it aside for now. _Some things_, Wilson decided, _you just don't question_. He rose from the booth and took care of both his and House's trays, snorting softly as he did so. It was nice to know that some things about House wouldn't change. This kind of clean-up work, Wilson didn't mind.

# # #

House was back in his office after leaving Wilson with Michaels in the cafeteria. He was as baffled by his own behavior as Wilson was. Normally he would have hounded them, making sure to make his presence known.

That behavior just didn't seem to make sense to House anymore, for whatever reason. He sat back in his Eames chair, playing his PSP and letting his mind wander. The chiming of his phone pulled him away, and he paused his game long enough to dig it out of his pocket, flipping it open to answer.

"House."

"Hello, hello." Anthony's warm voice reached out from the other end. "How are things?"

House couldn't help but smile at the sound of the younger man's voice. "Boring, but otherwise not too bad, I guess."

"How's the leg?"

House rolled his eyes. "And you get pissy with me for 'fussing'. I know you didn't call me just to ask about that."

Anthony chuckled slightly. Either it was better or House just didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't going to get anywhere either way, so Anthony decided to simply let it go. "Fine, you caught me. Actually, I wanted to see if you were free tonight."

"I told you I planned on coming over, duh." House shook his head. Either the boy was losing his mind or there was something more going on.

"Good." Anthony wandered around his kitchen, and Simon silently nagged him to continue. He waved him away and turned his back on Simon. "There's this…thing going on tonight."

House huffed impatiently and pushed himself out of the chair to pace around his office. "Yeah, and?"

Anthony puffed out his cheeks. "Simon'sinadragshowtonightandIwantedtoknowifyouwantedtogo." There, he'd gotten it out. He tensed, waiting for House's reaction.

House stopped mid-pace. A drag show? It had potential to be interesting, certainly. A slow smile curled onto his face. "Guess I'll bring the car instead of the bike."

Anthony blew out a sigh of relief, giving Simon a thumbs-up sign. "Cool. I'll see you tonight, then."

"Wouldn't miss it. See you later." House snapped his phone closed, chuckling to himself. If he'd known what he was signing up for by getting together with Anthony…hell, he still would have done it.

Wilson noticed the amused expression as he pushed through House's office door. "What's with you?"

House snapped his head up at Wilson's voice. "Nothing. What's with you and the redheaded hottie?"

"That's…interesting."

"What's so interesting about that?" House glared at Wilson. "I had…things to do."

"The hell you did!" Wilson exclaimed. "You don't have a case, you did your clinic hours…you had nowhere to be, and yet…you left me and Michaels alone. Again, I ask, what's with you?!"

House glanced around the room, looking everywhere but at Wilson, thumping his cane on the floor. "You need this."

Wilson squinted and frowned at House. "Need what?"

"Good God, man, do I need to draw you a picture?!" House limped back to his Eames chair, flopping down and picking up his PSP. "You're way overdue for your next wedding."

"I'm not going to marry her, House. We're just…" Wilson tilted his head thoughtfully. "You're not upset."

"Of course I'm not upset, you moron." House barely glanced up from his game. "Hell, I'm the one who hooked you up, remember?"

"I know. That was weird enough. What's with all the self-sacrifice all of a sudden?"

"I've got my own thing going on. Don't have time to get all up in your business, in case you haven't noticed."

Wilson nodded. It finally made sense. "So…we're good, then."

"Yep."

Wilson turned and walked out of the office, smiling slightly and shaking his head. House grinned to himself, sitting up and shutting off his game. He shoved it into his backpack, rising to grab his jacket from the coat rack and shifting the backpack over his shoulder. There was nothing holding him down here. Might as well take a little extra time to get himself together for his date with Anthony.

Date. There was that word again. House chuckled to himself as he left, amused with the idea as well as the anticipation and excitement he allowed himself to feel. His short time with Anthony had awakened something in House, something he couldn't quite define. He briefly wondered if Wilson was feeling something similar. House hoped so. He hated to think he'd hooked him up with Michaels for nothing. Somehow, though, House didn't think that was the case. It looked like both of them were on their way to getting what they needed.

# # #

**Thanks for your patience. As always, I welcome all your feedback. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Kind of a long one here. Once it got going, I couldn't stop. :P Standard disclaimers apply, as always.**

# # #

Anthony was working in the kitchen when he heard the distinctive sound of wood tapping on his door. Baffled, he wiped his hands off on a towel and hollered out, "Who is it?"

It was briefly silent, followed by the sound of crashing guitars. _They call me…Doctor Love…. _"What the hell…?" Anthony threw open the door to see House standing there, holding up his cell phone, those bright blue eyes crinkled in mirth.

Anthony snorted, shaking his head. The man really was too much sometimes. He stepped aside to let him in. "Didn't expect you so early. Nice ringtone, by the way."

"Thought you might like it." House sniffed the air. "Something cooking?"

"I _was_ in the middle of it when you showed up." Anthony made his way back into the kitchen, House close behind. "I _thought_ I had a little more time."

House shrugged. "Things wrapped up early, so I thought I'd drop by. I didn't realize it was such an issue."

"It's not, really." Anthony turned his attention back to the stove, stirring up whatever was in the pan, tossing it expertly. "I just get kind of…flustered, I guess, when my plans get thrown off track."

"I can go away for a couple hours…" House half-heartedly offered, watching Anthony move gracefully around the kitchen. _Not that I really want to…_

"No point now. Besides, I need a taste tester. Try this." Anthony turned and popped a piece of something in his mouth, following it with a brief kiss.

House chewed thoughtfully. "That's pretty good. This…" He returned the kiss, slipping a hand around the younger man's waist. "…is better."

"I would tend to agree." Anthony felt himself melt a little under House's touch. "It's chicken korma."

House nodded. "Thought it was something Indian. Good stuff."

"I dated an Indian man for a while. When we broke up, I kept the recipes." Anthony broke away to turn down the stove to a simmer, placing a lid on the pan. "Now then, I'm going to take a shower. There's beer in the fridge if you want one."

"Sure you don't need any help?" House fixed Anthony with a teasing grin.

Anthony smirked at House, closing the distance between them and placing a hand on either side of House, trapping him between the counter and himself. His green eyes teased back. "Maybe later."

"Tease." House murmured, pulling Anthony in by the nape of his neck for a lingering kiss.

"Mm-hm." Anthony reluctantly pulled away. "Think of it more like…building anticipation."

House considered this. "I can live with that. Go get cleaned up already. Dirty boy."

"Oh, you have no idea."

"Actually…I kind of do." House hollered after his retreating form. "Couldn't hurt to remind me, though."

"I said later, Greg." Anthony hollered back, snickering to himself. House _was_ looking exceptionally good today, sporting a black button down shirt with white pinstripes, black jeans, and shoes other than his standard running shoes. He smelled different, too, something rich and spicy that Anthony couldn't quite place. Whatever it was, he liked it.

House drifted around Anthony's living room, taking the time to more closely inspect the décor. There was the sci-fi memorabilia that he had noticed on the first night he was here that had brought back such painful memories of Kutner, but there were also framed photos of various people clustered together on the shelf above his TV.

One was a man, a woman, two boys, and a girl. Parents, brother and sister, House guessed. There were a few group photos of Anthony through the years, starting from his teen years. He'd been something of a pretty boy in his younger years, and House wasn't sure he was nearly as attractive then as he was now. The years had given Anthony a certain character that he liked.

The last picture was of Anthony and a man, obviously someone he was close to, possibly a former boyfriend. House studied the photograph more closely. The other man was blond, blue-eyed, probably fairly close to Anthony's age. There must be a reason he kept this picture around. It wasn't the sort of thing one just forgot about.

A knock at the door broke House out of his train of thought. The shower was still running, so House limped over to answer the door.

House instantly recognized the man at the door from the picture he had just seen. He fixed the man with a baffled expression. "Can I help you?"

"Sorry, I must have the wrong place." The man looked baffled as well. "I'm looking for Anthony Taylor."

"You've got the right place." House leaned on his cane. "And you are?"

"Drew Thompson." He extended his hand to House. House took it suspiciously. "And who might you be?"

"Greg House." The two men coolly appraised each other. "He's here, just…occupied at the moment."

"I'm sure he is." Drew looked almost smug. "Just tell him I stopped by. He'll know who I am."

"I'll let him know." House thought he saw a glint of metal on the man's hand as he turned back toward the entrance of the building. The visit seemed suspicious for more reasons than one.

House closed the door, debating whether to tell Anthony about his visitor. He heard the water shut off, and soon the bathroom door opened, steam rolling out. House limped down to the bathroom, leaning against the door frame.

Anthony was leaned slightly over the sink, concentrating on shaving his face, humming along with his I Pod. His movements were delicate and precise, and House finally understood why women often found watching a man shave was so damned sexy.

He seemed to sense House's presence, and he grinned as he finished shaving. "You can come in, you know."

House limped in to stand behind him, pressing a light kiss to the back of Anthony's neck while inhaling his clean scent. He traced a finger along his shoulder, studying the tattoo he had noticed the night before a little more closely.

It appeared to be some sort of bird, meticulously detailed and brightly colored, with flames fanning out from under its wings. Underneath was the date 9-9-84.

"It's a phoenix." Anthony answered House's unspoken question.

House nodded. "The legendary symbol of resurrection. What about the date?"

"The day I came out." Anthony laughed as he remembered. "In a bar, no less."

"That should surprise me." House chuckled. "For some reason it doesn't." He lightly touched the tattoo, admiring the artwork. "I'm sure there's one hell of a story there."

"It was my freshman year of college." Anthony started. "I knew back then that I liked guys, but I wasn't so sure about being so open about it. I met Simon in one of my classes, and he insisted on taking me to an 18-and-over night at a gay bar. A few hours and a few beers later, I was standing on a table, coming out to the whole damn world. Got the tattoo a few days later to symbolize the beginning of my new life."

"So you and Simon have been friends ever since."

Anthony shrugged. "He was the first guy I had a relationship with, but…we're much better as friends than anything else."

"How'd your family take it? Assuming you told them, of course."

"Oh, I told them, alright." Anthony's expression darkened at the memory. "My sister always suspected, my brother denied it for a while, my mother cried, and my father quit speaking to me…after he told me how ashamed he was to have a faggot for a son."

"Damn."

"Yeah." Anthony took a deep breath. "It mostly worked out, eventually. My mom and my brother and sister came around. My sister's girls think I'm the coolest uncle ever."

House chuckled as his hand drifted to Anthony's waist. "And your dad?"

"Dead over ten years now." Anthony's spoke quietly. "We never spoke again after I came out."

House nodded in understanding, thinking over his own contentious relationship with his father. Anthony let out a long sigh. "Anyway…I'll bet dinner's about done. Let me get dressed and we'll eat and get out of here."

"Sounds good." House's hand drifted along Anthony's lower back as he left, sending shivers down Anthony's spine. Truth be told, he'd be just as happy to hang here with House, but he did promise Simon that he'd come watch the show. If all went well, there would be plenty of time later for…whatever.

# # #

Anthony soon emerged, dressed in a deep purple button down shirt, dark wash jeans, and a purple bandanna tied around his head. House reflexively rolled his eyes.

"What is it with you and purple?" He asked, annoyed. "You look like a walking eggplant."

"I like it." Anthony stuck his tongue out at House as he buttoned his shirt cuffs. "Now come on and eat so we can get out of here. Simon will flip if we're late."

"God forbid." House grumbled as he dished up rice and the chicken korma. He had to admit, Anthony _did_ look good, even in purple. Too bad he had promised Anthony he'd go to this damned drag show. House wasn't particularly social, and he would have preferred to stay in, most definitely.

They settled in on the couch when House happened to glance at the photo over the TV. He remembered the man that had stopped by earlier. "You had company earlier." He told him around a mouthful of food.

"Really?" Anthony couldn't remember anyone but House stopping by. "Who and when?"

"When you were in the shower. Some guy named Drew. You know him?"

Anthony froze, his stomach suddenly churning. There was no point in trying to lie to House. "Yeah, I do." He pointed to the picture above the TV. "That's him. We were together for about four or five years, off and on."

House nodded, his eyes intent on Anthony. "Is he married, by some odd chance?"

Anthony nearly choked. House didn't miss a damn thing. "I don't even want to know how you knew that."

"He was wearing a wedding ring." House casually drained the last of his beer. "What do you mean by off and on?"

"When things were good with his wife, we were off. When they weren't, or…if he wanted something she couldn't provide…we were on."

House narrowed his eyes. "What, you didn't think you deserved any better?"

"The high points seemed like they were worth the low points." Anthony spoke quietly, rising to take his plate to the kitchen.

House heaved himself from the couch, quickly following him. "But he used you! You should be pissed! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Just drop it, Greg." Anthony snapped. "It doesn't matter."

"It _does _matter." House was right behind him, catching up to him as he rinsed dishes in the sink. Anthony could feel his breath on the back of his neck. "You wouldn't have kept his picture if it didn't matter."

Anthony sighed. "Look, I know this sounds stupid, but…I loved him. I knew he didn't love me, but some part of me always hoped he'd get his head out of his ass and leave her. I wanted him to love me too." He dropped his head, and he could feel his throat tightening. "You must think I'm a fucking idiot."

"Yep, I do." House placed his hands on Anthony's shoulders, massaging them lightly. "I also know that the best of us are idiots for what we think is love." He crossed his arms across Anthony's shoulders, deep in thought. He couldn't help making comparisons between Anthony's behavior and his own behavior with Stacy.

Anthony's phone started chiming in his pocket, and he quickly pulled it out, checking the caller ID. When he saw who was calling, he simply shoved the phone back in his pocket, letting the call go to voice mail. He was breaking this pattern here and now.

House wrapped his arms around Anthony's waist, setting his chin on his shoulder. "You deserve a hell of a lot more than that asshole can ever give you. Can't say I'm necessarily that guy, but…"

Anthony suddenly turned to face House, taking his face in his hands. "You could be that guy. Give yourself some credit, would you?"

House simply shrugged and gave Anthony a small kiss. "Don't we have somewhere to be?"

Anthony chuckled and released House. Clearly this conversation was over. "Yeah, we do. Don't want Simon to get his shorts in a bunch."

House grabbed his keys and his jacket, leaving a trail of leather scent behind him that mixed tantalizingly with his cologne. Anthony took a deep inhale. Good Lord, this was going to be a long night.

# # #

Soon House and Anthony arrived at the small club, pulling into a space near the door. House hung his parking tag from the rear view mirror and gave Anthony a small grin.

"One of the few times being a cripple comes in handy."

Anthony merely shook his head. He could never think of House as a cripple just because of the cane. Hell, he didn't even think about it most of the time.

They entered the club, and Anthony paid their cover charge, gesturing for House to follow him through the crowd to the front. House gripped Anthony's shoulder, feeling edgy as the crowd pressed around him. More than a few people waved and hollered at Anthony as they passed through, and House heard a few comments about himself.

The atmosphere was nervewracking, to say the least. Anthony chatted with a few people that stopped by their table, and he was kind enough to introduce House to them. Finally they got settled in with their drinks, and House started to relax a little as the crowd settled down, draping an arm across the back of Anthony's chair, feeling oddly possessive.

"Doing okay?" Anthony leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Better now." House whispered back, smiling slightly.

The first few acts came on the stage, campy and cheesy at best. House was unimpressed. "I would be more convincing than these assholes."

"This is kind of the amateur portion of the program. It gets better, don't worry."

"Right." House scooted his chair a little closer, slowly getting more comfortable, stretching out his long legs under the table.

Apparently the crowd shared House's opinion, judging by the booing and catcalls that followed several of the performances. Finally the MC stepped up to the stage, attempting to calm the crowd.

"Okay, okay, give the rookies a break. At least give them some props for getting up here. I don't see any of you sissies up here." A titter of laughter went through the crowd, and polite applause broke out. "Now then, you've seen the rest…here come the best. Club Paradise is proud to present…the fabulous…the divine…Miss Sondra. Give it up!"

The crowd cheered as Miss Sondra took the stage, making some last minute adjustments in a campy fashion. She noticed House and Anthony, waving at Anthony, and winking suggestively at House, much to the crowd's amusement. House gave as good as he got, mockingly blowing Miss Sondra a kiss. She settled in and took the microphone, gesturing to the DJ to start her music.

It was an old tune, and House thought he recognized it as she began singing. "You work and work for years and years, you're always on the go…You never take a minute off, too busy making dough…someday you say, you'll have your fun, when you're a millionaire…imagine all the fun you'll have in your old rocking chair…"

Miss Sondra was working the old standard for all it was worth as she smoothly went into the chorus. "Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think…enjoy yourself, while you're still in the pink…"

House could feel his breathing shorten, his blood pounding in his ears. The vision of Amber in that bar, cheerfully singing that song came rushing back to him, and he could hear her taunting him.

Something in House's demeanor got Anthony's attention, and he turned to see House's blue eyes wide with panic, his chest heaving. "Greg…what's going on?"

"Gotta get out of here." House's words came out in a rush, and he bolted out of his chair, heading straight into the bathroom, finding the handicapped stall as he felt the bile rise in his throat. His stomach roiled, but nothing came up. House rested his forehead against the cool tile, willing the vision to leave his mind. Why now? He thought this shit was done and over with. Was he right back where he started all those months ago?

"Greg? Are you in here?" Anthony's concerned voice rang out as he entered the bathroom.

_Pull it together. You can't let him see you like this. He'll know you're crazy, and you can kiss whatever you have with him goodbye._ House heard a tentative tap on the stall door. "Come on, Greg. Talk to me."

"Can't." House managed to choke out. He wanted to bang his head against the wall, anything to make this _stop_.

There was silence on the other side of the stall door, and House heard Anthony let out a short sigh. "Panic attacks suck, don't they?"

_This isn't some stupid panic attack. Can't he see that?!_ "Fuck off." House rasped.

"Sorry, not leaving." Anthony's voice took on a stubborn tone. "You're going to have to do better than that."

House turned and slid down the wall, eventually easing himself to the floor, scrubbing his hands over his face. He heard movement, and he lifted his head to see Anthony crawling under the stall door.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Anthony's lips quirked upward as he made his way to sit next to House. "If Mohammed can't come to the mountain, the mountain has to come to Mohammed. That's what my grandmother used to say, anyway."

"You're both idiots." House muttered, drawing one knee up and looking at the floor.

Anthony rubbed the spot between House's shoulder blades, waiting for House to calm down. He didn't know what had triggered House's panic attack, but he knew that it had scared the shit out of him. "Hey now, my grandmother was no idiot. Can't say the same for myself."

"You've saddled yourself to a crazy man. That's pretty damned idiotic."

"You're not crazy." Anthony spoke quietly. "And I'm here because I want to be. I haven't saddled myself to a damn thing."

House closed his eyes, finally feeling everything settle down and return to some semblance of normal. He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks as he exhaled before tentatively setting his head on Anthony's shoulder.

Anthony moved his hand to caress House's head, planting a gentle kiss on top. "Better?"

"Getting there."

"Okay."

They sat quietly for a moment, listening to the activity going on outside. Finally House spoke. "Sounds like we're missing one hell of a show out there."

"We can go back out there whenever you're ready."

House lifted his head, nodding firmly. "Let's go."

"Just like that?" Anthony was baffled by House's sudden change in mood.

"No point in hiding out in here." Both men started to climb to their feet, House struggling a bit harder than Anthony. He gestured to the younger man. "Help an old cripple, will you?"

Anthony helped pull House to his feet, and House pulled him in close to him, wrapping his arms around Anthony and giving him a firm kiss, slipping in some tongue for good measure.

"No fair. You used the cripple card against me." Anthony laughed as they broke apart.

"And you totally fell for it. Not my fault." House grinned a little. "Come on. You promised me this show would get better. I want some proof."

Anthony followed House out of the bathroom and back to their table. A performer dressed as Cher circa 1989 had taken the stage, belting out a convincing version of "If I Could Turn Back Time", flirting with the crowd, seeming to take a special interest in House.

It turned out to be a common theme throughout the rest of the set, and House had to admit that the quality of the performers had definitely improved. If he hadn't known those were guys up there, he might have been fooled. He chuckled in amusement and slid his chair closer to Anthony, draping his arm across the back of his chair, lightly caressing his arm with his thumb.

Anthony returned in kind, surprised by House's public show of affection, and the two of them watched the show, occasionally leaning toward each other to comment on the performers. The last song of the set featured a duo done up as the ABBA girls, doing a throaty version of "Dancing Queen", evoking a heavy eyeroll from House.

The set ended, and the lights came up for a short intermission. Anthony rose, placing a hand on House's shoulder. "I'm going to grab us a couple of drinks. Will you be okay for a minute?"

"Yeah, no problem." House was briefly amused. "See you in a bit."

After Anthony left, Miss Sondra plopped down in the seat he vacated. "Enjoying the show?"

House was startled by her sudden presence. "Kind of got off to a slow start, but it got better. You were pretty good."

Miss Sondra flipped a hand dismissively. "Mere amateurs. You should stick around for the next set. It's going to be _beyond _fabulous." She turned to look behind House, a worried expression wrinkling her face. "Oh dear. I think trouble just showed up."

House turned to see Anthony returning with their drinks, followed closely by Drew. The blond man was attempting to start up a conversation, despite the fact that Anthony didn't seem particularly interested.

House narrowed his eyes, feeling a small flame of jealousy flare up in him. He quickly squelched it as he watched Anthony avoid contact with Drew on his way back to the table.

Anthony set down the drinks, his hands shaking slightly. His stomach was churning from Drew's bold proposition.

"_Hey, Tony baby." A familiar voice rumbled behind him. "Wanna go play?"_

"_I'm here with someone."_

"_So ditch him." Drew flashed him that beautiful smile. "What's he got that I don't?"_

"_Where should I start?" Anthony rolled his eyes and grabbed the drinks from the bar._

"_That's cold, Tony baby. You know you're the only one for me."_

"_That must come as a surprise to your wife." Anthony attempted to sidestep Drew. "Excuse me. Someone's waiting."_

"_He can wait." Drew fixed him with a hard look. "Do you know what I had to do to get away from home tonight?"_

"_Don't know, don't care." Anthony snapped. "Find some other sucker. I'm not the one."_

"_You'll regret it."_

"_Don't think so." Anthony looked up to see House observing the situation, his blue eyes narrowing in either anger or jealousy. He couldn't tell which. "Matter of fact, I know so."_

"Tony, you trying to keep that bourbon from me?" House's voice snapped him back to reality. "Not your smartest move, boy."

"Sorry." Anthony quickly shoved the glass to House, spilling a little out of nervousness.

House wiped it up with a napkin, sighing in mock distress. "Alcohol abuse. Not cool." He glanced over at Anthony, who played with his beer bottle, a tense expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Anthony spoke a little sharper than he'd intended. "I'll…tell you later."

House nodded, instantly suspicious as the lights went down and Miss Sondra returned backstage. He didn't know exactly what had transpired between Anthony and Drew. All he knew was…Anthony was hiding something, and House didn't like it.

He huffed in frustration and slipped his arm back around Anthony. Anthony drew closer to him, slipping his arm under House's.

Drew observed from a couple of tables away, where he was chatting up some young single. Getting to Anthony now might be a bit more of a challenge, but Drew liked nothing better than a good challenge. This, he decided, was going to be fun. Yes, most definitely.

# # #

**You know what to do. Read and review. :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Insert my standard disclaimers here. I don't own House, but imagine all the fun I could have if I did! :) The O/Cs, as always, are all mine.**

# # #

Anthony and House left the club that night, still talking about the show itself. It wasn't the worst thing House had ever experienced, and the finale was actually pretty damn good, at least until Miss Sondra had decided to plop herself on his lap, sending a shock wave through his right leg. The thing was still hurting when they left, and House dug out his rescue meds to handle it.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it, Greg."

"I know he didn't." House snarked as he threw back the pill. "Doesn't make the damn thing hurt any less."

"I know, I know." Anthony frowned, feeling his pockets. "Dammit."

"What?"

"I think I left my phone in there." Anthony quickly mentally backtracked, trying to think of when he used his phone last. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay." House grumbled, rubbing his leg. "Don't be long."

Anthony squeezed House's shoulder as he turned around and trotted back into the club. House was looking more beaten down by the minute. Between the panic attack and the leg, he was having a rough night. The sooner he tracked down his phone, the sooner they could be on their way, and the sooner he could get House settled in and relaxed. As much as the man hated to be babied in any way, this was one time when he definitely needed it.

He no sooner reentered the club when he ran into Simon. His brow crinkled in concern. "Is Greg okay? I didn't even realize I hit his bad leg. I just feel awful."

"He'll be fine. It's not like you did it on purpose." Anthony patted Simon's shoulder. "I just left my phone behind. As soon as I grab it, we'll be out of here."

"Okay." Simon looked a little doubtful. "Just be careful. I think Drew's still lurking around here somewhere."

"Seriously?" Anthony snorted. "I figured he would have found someone else to…take care of him, if you know what I mean."

"Seriously." Simon gave Anthony a hard look. "I know you, and I know your history with that fool. You've got the start of a good thing with Doctor Love there. Don't fuck it up."

"I won't. Promise." Anthony knew that Simon was just trying to look out for him, but really. He meant it when he told himself that he was breaking his pattern with Drew.

He approached the table where he and House had sat during the show, not seeing his phone anywhere.

"Looking for this?" Drew's familiar voice, smooth as silk, made Anthony turn his head. He was holding up Anthony's phone, a wide smirk crossing his handsome features.

Anthony reached out to grab it, but Drew pulled it just out of his reach. "Ah, ah, ah. You'll have to pay to get it back." He teased. "One little kiss."

Anthony scowled in annoyance, folding his arms over his chest. "I don't have time to play your games tonight. Greg's waiting for me."

"Oh, so he has a name, does he?" Drew closed the distance between them, and Anthony could smell the gin on his breath. It wasn't awful, but it hardly compared to the sweetness of House's bourbon. "None of your others had names."

"Things are different now, Drew." Anthony told him firmly, determined to stand his ground, just this once. "This…doesn't work for me now. I deserve better."

"And that old man's going to be the one to give it to you? Come on…we both know nothing can compare to what we have." Drew lightly reached up to stroke Anthony's cheek, his lips nearly touching Anthony's. "You're so cute when you get all upset."

Anthony could feel himself weakening, old memories and feelings rushing back to him as Drew's lips started to touch his, his hand slowly moving to the back of his neck. Any other time, any other place, and Anthony would have simply allowed himself to be sucked back into the vortex that was Drew, taking whatever stolen moments he could grab, cherishing them.

He pulled away from Drew, taking his hand away from his neck and snatching his phone from Drew's hand. "I already told you…things are _different_. Go find some other man-whore to play around with." Anthony tilted his head thoughtfully. "Better yet, why don't you just go home to your wife? I'm sure she would be very interested in what you've been up to for the last five years."

Drew narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me." Anthony hissed, pushing past him and making his way to the exit. He was still shaking when he reached House's car, and the older man regarded him with a frown.

"What the hell took you so long?" House growled as he started the old beast and pulled out of the lot.

"Ran into Drew again." Anthony nervously awaited House's reaction.

"I see." House didn't like the way this was going. From the looks of things, Drew could be smooth, charming even, and as susceptible as Anthony was to those charms, any number of things could have happened. House didn't want to think about that.

"Nothing happened, Greg." Anthony assured House. "Well…nothing that _he_ wanted happened, anyway."

House glared at Anthony. "That's not funny."

"I didn't say it was." Anthony shot back as House pulled up in front of Anthony's building.

The only sound was the rumbling engine of the old car. "Guess I'll head in." Anthony ventured. "Coming with?"

House shook his head. "I'm not going to sleep right tonight, if I sleep at all. I'd just as soon not sleep in my own bed."

"Okay." Anthony pressed a firm kiss to House's stubbled cheek, taking a moment to revel in the rich blend of scents that House gave off. Leather, bourbon, and his spicy cologne created a heady combination, far more powerful and seductive than the gin-and-Polo combination that he remembered from Drew. "Would you like company?"

House's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Seems like you already had your shot at that."

Anthony huffed impatiently, not moving from House's side. "I told you, nothing happened."

"Nothing that _he _wanted. What about you?" House stared ahead, keeping a death grip on the steering wheel.

"He didn't have anything I wanted either." Anthony whispered in House's ear. "What I wanted was right here."

He could feel House start to relax his grip, and House finally let out a short sigh. "Don't count on getting any tonight."

Anthony snorted, surprised by House's bluntness. "Fine by me." He gave House a quick kiss before climbing out of the car. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here."

Anthony quickly let himself into his apartment, gathering up a change of clothes, sleep pants, and a few toiletries and packing them in his messenger bag. He stopped when he noticed the picture of him and Drew.

His mouth twisted into a half smile as he took the frame from its place on the shelf, staring at the photo. Anthony didn't even remember when the picture had been taken. It must have been sometime around Drew's wedding.

He was suddenly furious. Furious that he had allowed Drew to string him along for so long, furious that he had actually loved someone who had no intention of loving him back. He removed the picture from the frame, placing the now-empty frame back on the shelf, holding the picture in his hand. Finally he ripped it in half. It was oddly satisfying, and he continued ripping it until nothing but shreds remained. He grinned to himself as he dumped the whole mess in the kitchen trash, turning out the light as he locked the apartment.

Anthony was done with Drew, that much was clear. Even though he had no idea what the future held with House, that particular uncertainty was much easier for Anthony to deal with. It was a hell of a lot better than sharing a man that didn't seem to love him or his wife.

# # #

The ride back to House's was silent, but House seemed calmer than he did earlier. They soon arrived at the apartment, and House toed off his shoes after he hung up his jacket, making a beeline for his piano.

Anthony listened to him play as he changed into a t-shirt and sleep pants, leaving his bag on a chair in the bedroom. Damn, the man had some serious talent. Anthony couldn't help feeling a little jealous. Eight years of lessons and he sure as hell never sounded like that.

He padded back into the living room, a book and his glasses in his hand. Anthony heard House change songs as he entered, a slow version of 'Dancing Queen'. His brief glare met House's small smirk.

"Very funny, Greg." Anthony huffed as he set the book and his glasses on the coffee table, leaving them to join House at the piano.

House scowled as Anthony played a couple of chords. "Careful with my baby, there."

Anthony continued playing, finding a song that he remembered from childhood. "I'll be nice, don't worry."

House was pleasantly surprised. "Not bad."

"Eight years of lessons. Good to know they paid off a little."

"So…your dad took away the guitar, but he let you play piano?"

Anthony's mouth quirked in a bitter smile. "My mother was a piano teacher. She kind of put her foot down on this one." He hit a discordant note, and he winced while House glared at him.

House unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled up the sleeves, exposing muscular forearms that flexed as his long, elegant fingers moved over the keys. His face was fixed in concentration as he played with different chords, nose wrinkling when something didn't work, smoothing out into a ghost of a smile when it did work, closing his eyes and bending his head slightly.

He was so beautiful, and he didn't even realize it. Anthony just sat on the bench, transfixed by the figure next to him. He felt as if he had been allowed access to something very private, and he suddenly felt very close to House as a result. It was a feeling he never had with Drew, or any other man, for that matter.

House could feel Anthony moving closer to him as he played. Had it been anyone else, it would have felt like an invasion. This was his sanctuary, his escape from the world when the world became too much to handle, and tonight had definitely been overwhelming. The panic attack, the sudden leg pain, Drew trying to worm his way back to Anthony…it all started to crash down on House as he played on, shutting out the younger man that moved ever closer to him, so close that he could feel their shoulders touching.

He drew in a ragged breath as he carefully played his last chords, letting the notes fade away into the dim light of the living room. House removed his hands from the keyboard and let them rest on his thighs, rubbing the right one absentmindedly.

"I hate it when other guys hit on you." House softly blurted out. _Where the hell did that come from? I never would have admitted that…ever._

If Anthony was surprised at House's sudden admission, it barely registered. He tentatively placed a hand between House's shoulder blades in a now-familiar gesture of comfort. "In general…or just Drew?"

House's shoulders slumped. "Both." He closed his eyes as Anthony gently rubbed along his spine.

"But mostly Drew." Anthony murmured. He took the older man's silence as agreement, and he moved his hand from House's shoulders to the piano bench, effectively capturing him between his hand and the rest of Anthony's body. "You're jealous."

"Maybe." House growled, his thoughts churning inside him. It was difficult, at best, to think rationally when Anthony got so damned close to him.

"Definitely." Anthony's voice seemed to take on a sad tone as he placed his hand on top of House's right hand, his fingers intertwining with House's. "I don't blame you. Maybe I felt a little of it, too."

House's bright blue eyes snapped open, and he looked at Anthony as if he'd lost his mind. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Anthony laughed softly. "You wouldn't believe how many people talked about you…in a good way. Those drag queens weren't flirting with you for no reason, you know."

House's lips twitched in a small smile. "I just figured they were screwing with the new guy. You know, trying to push my buttons."

"That too." Anthony dared to lay a small kiss on House's rough jaw. House seemed to relax a little, squeezing Anthony's fingers that remained intertwined with his. Anthony rested his chin on House's shoulder. "I need to tell you something. A whole lot of something."

House's heart seemed to stop for just a moment, freezing upon hearing Anthony's words. What came next couldn't possibly be good. It never was, not with an opening like that.

Anthony took a deep breath, pressing a kiss to House's shoulder. "Just listen before you make any judgements, okay?" House nodded in agreement he most certainly didn't feel. "Drew _did_ hit on me tonight. Hell, he flat out propositioned me."

"I knew it." House's tone was flat, and he quickly released his grip on Anthony's fingers, turning his head away.

"He figured I'd just ditch you and run off with him. Any other man…and he would have been right." Anthony refused to let go of House's hand, and continued talking despite House's attempts to shut him out. "I've done it I don't know how many times. Drew had no reason to believe this time was any different." Anthony brushed his thumb over the back of House's hand, his other coming to rest on House's waist. "I _knew_ this time was different."

"What's the difference?" House's voice was harsh, his body tense. "Let's face it, they guy's better looking, younger…hell, aside from that being married thing, he sounds damn near perfect."

"He's not you." Anthony softly whispered in House's ear, his lips brushing against his earlobe. "He doesn't have your brilliance, your humor, your _heart_. And yes, you do have one. I've seen it." He kissed House on the neck, sending a shiver through him.

"You still have his picture." House grumbled, even as he felt his anger and hurt dissipating.

"Not anymore." Anthony smirked a little. "I shredded it."

"Really." House frowned. "Interesting."

"I don't want anything to come between us." Anthony explained. "We could have a damn good thing here, you know?"

"A damn good thing is still just a…thing." House's face was clouded with doubt.

"It's becoming more than a thing for me. I suspect the same thing's true for you." Anthony hoped like hell he wasn't misreading House.

House could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't believe he was so fucking transparent. Finally he nodded, the words coming hard to him. "Yeah. A lot more." House turned his head, capturing Anthony's lips with his own, catching the younger man completely off guard.

Anthony released House's hand, reaching up to stroke the back of the older man's neck, evoking a low growl from him. House braced himself against the piano bench, leaning further into the kiss, his tongue gently probing, exploring, his other hand moving along the younger man's thigh, feeling the muscle flex under his touch.

House moved from Anthony's mouth to his neck, and Anthony let out a sharp gasp at the feel of House's lips, teeth, and tongue over the sensitive skin. It was almost as if House was marking his territory, and it was shocking and thrilling at the same time. Anthony tilted his chin upward, leaning back on his hands to brace himself against the bench, allowing House's mouth to continue its trail down his neck.

House pulled away to shift himself so that he straddled the piano bench, those blue eyes deepening with ever increasing desire as he pressed himself against Anthony's hip, one finger tracing along his collarbone under his t-shirt. Anthony moaned softly and tilted his head back, lips parted, his eyelids drifting closed over his bright green eyes. He was so beautiful and desirable that it took everything House had to contain himself.

His hands found their way under Anthony's shirt, spreading out along his stomach, his thumbs lightly pressing against the coarse hair and stroking upward. The sounds of pure pleasure from Anthony drove House on, and he made quick work of the t-shirt, throwing it aside.

Anthony shifted to straddle the bench, much like House had, spreading himself before House. The older man bent over him, bracing his hands on the bench behind Anthony, laying a series of soft kisses along Anthony's waist, teasing him with lips and tongue. It was agonizing, tortuous, glorious. His mouth moved up his stomach, ending at the space between his collarbones with the flick of his tongue.

House slowly, seductively brushed his lips along Anthony's neck, up his jaw, ending near his ear. "I want you."

The simple statement was drenched in pure lust and desire, and Anthony thought he would fly apart right then and there. He clutched the back of House's head, roughly caressing the closely cropped gray hair. "I want you, too."

"No one else." House growled as he nipped at Anthony's neck.

"No." Anthony gasped out. "No one else."

"That son of a bitch ever lays a hand on you…" House's voice became soft, but still ragged. "…he's got to answer to _me_. Got it?"

"Yes…" Anthony's brain checked out, and he was running on pure animal instinct.

"You too." House moved to meet Anthony's eyes, running his fingers over the younger man's parted, swollen lips. "I want to trust you."

Anthony's eyelids fluttered open, emerald green meeting cobalt blue. "I know." He shifted so he was sitting up, slowly unbuttoning House's shirt, tracing one finger down the center of his chest, ending at his belt buckle. "I don't just want your body, you know. I want your heart."

House felt the pounding in his chest again. Anthony had no idea how much he was asking. The last time he had given his heart away…it hadn't ended so well, and he had ended up pushing Stacy back to her husband. He wrapped a hand around Anthony's neck, stroking his jaw with his thumb. "I don't know if I can anymore."

"It doesn't have to be right this minute." Anthony laughed gently, slipping his hands around House's waist under the unbuttoned shirt. "I'll settle for your body until you're ready."

"So you're settling for less." House's expression seemed to darken. "You're an idiot."

"Trust me. I am _not_ settling for less." Anthony planted a kiss in the middle of House's exposed chest, the rough hair tickling his lips, that spicy scent filling his nostrils. "How can you even think that?" He shifted so that one leg lay over House's, getting as close as he could to the man, laying a series of soft kisses up his throat to his chin, ending with one on his lips.

House lifted his right leg so that it lay on top of Anthony's, their groins pressed together, their desire growing once again as House pressed his lips to Anthony's, their tongues tangling in a furious dance, their hands exploring everywhere they could possibly reach.

They broke apart, and House kept up his relentless assault on Anthony's throat, his breath growing shorter as he let out a soft groan. "Good thing I didn't count on getting any tonight." He gasped out roughly, surprised at his ability to put together a full sentence.

"Surprise." House murmured from Anthony's throat, his lust for the younger man blocking out any other thoughts. "Don't mind starting here…but I'd rather not end here." House pulled back to make eye contact, and Anthony swore the older man's eyes had gone a darker blue.

"Right." Anthony managed to untangle himself from House, offering him a hand up from the bench. He gratefully took it, as he was still sore from earlier, and now stiff from being on the bench for so long.

House pulled himself up with Anthony's help, leaning heavily on his cane as he slowly made his way down the hallway. "Better hurry up. This could be a limited-time offer."

Anthony laughed as he followed House to his bedroom. God, if this is what House called settling for less, he would gladly settle for this over whatever Drew had to offer. Besides, House didn't necessarily realize it, but he had already given Anthony a portion of his heart. He had done that when he spent those long hours at the hospital. Anything else that happened beyond that, Anthony figured, was pure bonus.

# # #

**Go ahead and do your thing here. Push the button and review. :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Back again with my usual disclaimers. I don't own anything but the O/Cs in this fic. **

# # #

Anthony caught up to House just before they entered the bedroom, and he reached up to grab him by his shoulders. House still wore the button down shirt, though it was now unbuttoned and wide open.

"Is that offer still good?" Anthony slipped the shirt off House's shoulders, leaving tender kisses along the bare skin.

"You're just in time, boy." House rumbled, allowing the shirt to slide off his arms and onto the floor. "It almost expired."

"Hmm…I almost believe that." Anthony placed a lingering kiss on the back of House's neck, a particularly sensitive spot. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from the older man and a growl of pleasure.

This was the best part of their growing relationship, as far as Anthony was concerned. He reveled in finding the spots that drew such exquisite reactions from House. It was nearly as beautiful as the sex itself.

"Need the bed, boy." As much as House was enjoying the attention, his leg screamed out for rest. He moved toward the bed, still unsure of the etiquette of this particular situation. Emily Post never covered this, of that House was certain. "Leg's killing me."

"I could help you out with that, you know." Anthony offered as he moved to lie down beside House.

House merely arched an eyebrow. "You've got better drugs?"

"No, you idiot." Anthony spread his hands out along House's stomach, lightly kissing his jaw and cheek. "Massage. I'm trained in this stuff, remember?"

"No need." House was gruff, still uncomfortable with exposing his massive scar. "It's fine."

"Oh, bullshit." Anthony huffed in irritation. "You're so transparent." He brushed his lips down House's rough jaw and neck to caress his collarbone with his tongue while working at House's belt buckle with his free hand. A soft moan told Anthony that he had hit another sweet spot, and he filed away the knowledge for later.

House was melting under Anthony's hands and mouth. How the man managed to find all those little spots on him, he would never know. In all his fifty years, he couldn't remember when the simple act of someone touching him had affected him so much. He stroked the back of Anthony's head, finally relenting. "Fine. Work your magic…then…I can work mine."

Anthony snorted, shifting so that he was on his knees, deftly undoing House's jeans and sliding them off his body, exposing the mangled flesh. House bit his lip, waiting for the inevitable startled response to the ragged scar.

Anthony caught House's downcast expression, sighing and leaning down for a light kiss. "Relax. I've already seen it. It doesn't bother me."

"It bothers me." House's voice was barely more than a whisper as he reached out to grab the back of Anthony's neck.

"No shit, really?" Anthony closed his eyes against House's touch. "I never knew."

"I'm serious." House's harsh response got Anthony's attention.

Anthony leaned down so that he lay across House's chest. "You ever let anyone see your scar?"

"No."

Anthony looked mildly incredulous. "How long…"

"Don't want to talk about it. Thanks." House snapped. "Just do your…thing."

"Okay." Anthony pushed himself off House and moved his hands to the rough edges of the scar. House tensed, but otherwise didn't move as Anthony started with light strokes on either side. He kneaded deeper as the muscle on either side started relaxing, and he felt House's hand land on his head, lightly stroking the top with his thumb.

Anthony continued working, attuning himself to the feel of the muscles surrounding the large scar. The muscles were obviously overbuilt, taking on the job of the one that was missing. No wonder House hurt so much. He suspected that was only part of the story, but he wouldn't know until House was ready to tell it, and he made it clear that he wasn't.

Trust was a tricky thing, Anthony knew, and House was a man who didn't trust easily. _I want to trust you, _he had told Anthony. Not_ I trust you_. It was a critical difference.

A small noise caught Anthony's attention, and he lifted his head to see House's face. Something was…different, but Anthony couldn't quite put his finger on it. He stopped what he was doing and laid alongside House.

"Greg?"

The older man blinked, turning his head to Anthony. There was pain reflected in those bright blue eyes, but not the physical kind.

"You're crying." Anthony reached out to stroke his cheek.

"Don't tell Wilson." House answered, his voice rough. "He'll want to throw a party to celebrate my big emotional breakthrough."

"I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to." Anthony laughed softly, brushing away the remaining tears. "Just wondering what happened."

"Hard to explain." House wasn't sure he fully understood it himself, and if he didn't understand it, he sure as hell couldn't verbalize it.

Anthony curled up to House, laying his head on his chest, tracing around the outline of the scar. "So I'm really the first one to touch this?"

"The first non-medical professional." House absentmindedly traced circles on Anthony's upper back.

Anthony quickly connected a few dots. This was the injury that led to the use of the cane…and House had said he'd been using the cane for ten or twelve years. He found it hard to believe House had shut himself down for so long, and he wondered what had finally drawn House out.

"You didn't have to stop, you know." House's quiet voice pulled Anthony out of his thoughts.

Anthony lifted his head to meet House's now-calm blue eyes. "Is that what you want?"

House shrugged. "You do good work. Keep going." He wasn't quite ready to tell Anthony what his touch meant to him. It was a whole different level of intimacy, and House already had a hard time with intimacy in any form.

"Consider it done." Anthony pressed a lingering kiss to House's lips, and he heard House's breath catch slightly. He returned to his massage, picking up where he left off, working the area surrounding the scar, feeling the muscle relax under his hands.

House sighed, allowing Anthony's expert hands to lull him into a state of what could only be described as bliss. "You know, you should charge for this."

"I'll send you a bill." Anthony chuckled.

"You'll give me a discount, right?"

"Mmm…" Anthony pretended to ponder the possibility. "Sure, what the hell? Full discount, just because I like you."

"You do?" House's head shot up, puzzled.

Anthony shot him a baffled look in return. "Yeah…wouldn't keep hanging around with you if I didn't."

"Huh. Interesting." House laid his head back down, suddenly deep in thought.

Anthony finished massaging and pulled himself to lie on his stomach next to House. "Interesting? That's all you've got to say?"

"What else is there to say?" House shrugged, brushing his fingers along Anthony's cheek. "I guess…I kind of like you, too."

"Now there's a ringing endorsement." Anthony laughed and kissed the tip of House's nose.

House rolled his eyes. "Give me a break. I suck at this."

"It's cool, Greg." Anthony lay on his side, supporting himself on his elbow, tracing random patterns on House's chest. "You're more a man of action than of words, and your actions say a hell of a lot."

"I don't know about that."

"Well, I do." Anthony draped himself across House's chest, looking directly into House's deep blue eyes. "I don't know you all that well, but what I've seen so far, I really like. A lot."

House was stunned and overwhelmed. Clearly Anthony had no clue what he was talking about, but House was in no mood to set him straight, as it were. He'd figure out soon enough what an ass he was without House's help.

He wrapped his arms around Anthony, resisting the urge to blurt out everything that was going through his mind. Instead he simply kissed the top of his head, huffing in disgust at the purple bandanna that was still tied around it. "I hate this thing on you."

"I didn't hear you complaining earlier." Anthony snickered as he pressed small kisses on House's chest.

"I was…distracted." House lightly ran his hand along Anthony's back.

"Mm-hm." Anthony shifted to pull the covers over the two of them before returning to lay his head on House's shoulder, draping an arm across his chest. "Your story, tell it any way you want."

House lightly caressed the younger man as his breathing evened out and he fell asleep on House. House closed his eyes, knowing that his own sleep would be troubled, if it came at all. He debated moving out to the couch so as not to disturb Anthony, but that would involve making Anthony move, and House didn't want that right now. His weight against him was comforting, and even if House couldn't manage to get any sleep tonight, at least he didn't have to be alone. That alone seemed to relax him, finally allowing him to drift off, even if it was only for a little while.

# # #

Anthony awoke to the sound of rain beating a steady rhythm against the bedroom window. It took him a minute to realize that it wasn't his bedroom. He rolled over, surprised to find the space cold and empty, though it still smelled of House.

He swung his feet over the side of the bed and padded out to the living room, where he found House curled up on the leather couch under a blanket, snoring, peaceful at last. Anthony counted at least three times when House had jolted awake in the night, refusing to elaborate on what had disturbed his sleep. At some point he must have given up on sleep and made his way out here.

He leaned over the back of the couch, marveling at how House managed to scrunch his tall frame into such a small space. It was almost as if he was protecting himself from something. Anthony wondered what the hell it could possibly be. He kissed his fingers and gently laid them on House's temple before making his way to the kitchen in search of coffee.

As expected, there was no coffeemaker, but Anthony managed to scrounge up a jar of instant coffee. He filled a pair of mugs with water and stuck them in the microwave, considering the idea of buying a coffeemaker. If he was going to spend any time here, it'd be nice to have some real coffee in the morning, and he suspected even House the ultimate bachelor might appreciate it.

He shook his head, chiding himself for even thinking so far ahead. Despite House's show of possessiveness the night before, Anthony knew the man was loaded with doubts. Those doubts could end things before they really got going for them, and the last thing Anthony wanted to do was jeopardize this. House was already far too important to him to do that.

Christ, he'd probably already said too much when he had told House he wanted his heart. He had to admit, he hadn't been thinking too clearly at the time when he blurted out that bit of nonsense. It was a miracle House hadn't laughed right in his face.

Of course, if Anthony remembered correctly...House hadn't exactly been thinking with his brain, either. Anthony grinned to himself, now wishing they had finished what they'd started on that piano bench. He shook off the thought as he took the coffee out of the microwave and took both mugs into the living room, setting them on the coffee table. He picked up his glasses and book from where he had left them and settled into the chair, stretching out his long legs to rest on the table, crossing them at the ankles.

He wasn't aware of how much time had passed when he felt something brush his foot, startling him. Anthony glanced up to see House's hand wrapped around his foot, lightly brushing the top with his thumb.

"Morning."

"Yeah." House frowned and turned his head in the direction of Anthony's voice. "How long have you been up?"

Anthony shrugged, closing his book. "Not long. Coffee's right there if you want it."

House pushed himself to a sitting position and brought the now cooled liquid to his lips, making a face as he took a drink. "God, that's some crap coffee."

"Consider yourself lucky I found that." Anthony chuckled at House's screwed up expression. "Apparently you're the last man on earth without a coffeemaker."

House's lips quirked in amusement. "You know, if you wanted to get one...I'd be okay with that."

"Funny you should say that. I was kind of thinking the same thing." Out of habit, Anthony took a sip of his own coffee. "God, that _is _vile." He set it aside and returned to his book.

House quickly drained his mug, leaning back on the couch and lifting his leg onto the coffee table. He watched Anthony for a few minutes as he lost himself in his book once again, a slight frown of concentration crossing his face as his bright green eyes scanned the pages. Finally he nudged Anthony's foot with his own.

"So I was thinking..." Anthony lifted his head at the sound of House's voice. "We should go get breakfast."

"Really." Anthony took off his glasses and set them on top of his book on the end table. He had the feeling he was about to get suckered into something, but he went along with House anyway. "What did you have in mind?"

A slow grin found its way onto House's face as he pushed himself up, limping to Anthony and leaning over him, kissing his forehead. "I'll give you one guess."

"Hmm..." Anthony pretended to think it over, moving his feet from the coffee table and leaning forward to meet House's eyes. "I'm thinking it has nothing to do with food."

"I'm thinking you're right." House placed one hand on the arm of the chair., brushing the fingers of the other across Anthony's lips. "What do you say? Care to take care of some unfinished business?"

Anthony grabbed House's hand, taking a finger in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and lightly sucking it before letting it go. "Does that answer your question?"

The sudden move sent a jolt through House as Anthony stood to meet him, and the two men stood face to face. All House could do was nod in response before moving forward to slowly press his lips to Anthony's, feeling Anthony's tongue slip easily into his mouth, his hands coming to rest on House's hips.

House responded in kind, his tongue tangling seductively with Anthony's, his hands circling his waist and spreading out along the small of Anthony's back. Last night's makeout session on the piano bench had been rough, almost frantic, but this morning House wanted nothing more than to slow down and explore every inch of the younger man's body. He broke away from Anthony's mouth to trace his tongue along his jaw, intrigued by the sensation of the stubble on his tongue and lips.

He continued up Anthony's jaw, ending at the space between the joint and the earlobe, evoking a shaky gasp from Anthony and sending up a flash of desire in House. Anthony wrapped his arms around House, pulling him so their bodies pressed together, nearly sending them both tumbling into the chair.

House nipped at Anthony's earlobe, roughly whispering in his ear, "Meet me down the hall. I'll be there in a minute."

Anthony silently nodded, pulling House to him by his neck for one last slow kiss before breaking away and making his way down the hall to the bedroom. It was a damn good thing Anthony had pulled away when he did, because suddenly House wasn't so sure they would have made it to the bedroom. Not that House would have minded, necessarily, but the bedroom would be far better for what he had in mind, most definitely.

# # #

**I've done my part, now do yours. Read and review. :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Back with some man-smut. Don't say I didn't warn you. :) Still don't own anything but that darling Anthony.**

# # #

Anthony was lingering in the doorway of the bedroom as House approached, his hands on either side of the doorframe, head tilted, his lids slightly hooded over his bright green eyes.

House smirked at the sight, willing himself to move just a little faster to get to him. "Waiting for something?"

"Or someone." Anthony smirked in return.

"Better be me." House growled as he placed a gentle kiss on Anthony's neck and a hand on his waist.

"Of course." Anthony lifted his chin to allow House to continue his ministrations, his voice catching in his throat. "Who else would there be?"

"Don't go there." House's voice was rough, with a tinge of sadness. It was foolish, he knew, this small flame of jealousy, but it was an almost automatic reaction.

"Greg." Anthony whispered, wrapping an arm around House. "There _is _no one else. If I can promise you nothing else, I can promise you that."

House wasn't entirely sure he believed Anthony, but he supposed it didn't really matter right this minute. His mouth worked over Anthony's throat, his hands roaming over Anthony's waist and stomach, trailing down to untie the drawstring on his sleep pants. They fell to the floor, leaving Anthony naked before him.

"Hmm..." House murmured as his hands drifted over the now bare skin. "Can't say I was expecting that."

"Surprise." Anthony responded softly, drawing House closer and brushing his lips down his neck. He turned down the waist of House's boxers, lightly tracing along his waist with his thumbs, thrilling to the sounds that rumbled from House's throat at the touch.

House nudged Anthony forward, and they both stumbled toward the bed, landing with a soft thump. The notion of slowing down was forgotten in the feel on Anthony's hands over his body. He somehow ended up under Anthony, and the younger man lightly grasped House's wrists, holding them over his head as he straddled House.

Anthony spotted the change in House's expression at his show of aggression, the big blue eyes going wide before the lids fluttered closed, a shaky sigh escaping him. So, it appeared House liked things a little rough. It was a pleasant surprise, and Anthony leaned down to nip at his earlobe, causing House to jerk slightly in response.

This intrigued Anthony, and he was curious to see just how far he could push House's boundaries. He shifted slightly so that he only straddled House's left leg, brushing his hands over his chest, stopping when he touched his nipples.

House's body arched upward at the touch, and Anthony decided to push further, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, pinching slightly to gauge House's reaction.

His body seemed to operate independently of his brain, the physical reaction running miles ahead of any emotional reaction. House heard the moan escape his mouth, encouraging Anthony to explore further, now replacing his fingers with his mouth. He rolled his tongue over one nipple, then the other, returning to lightly bite at them.

House thought he would fly apart at the new sensation, and he found himself squirming almost uncomfortably under Anthony's continued explorations. Anthony shifted so he was in between House's legs, nudging them apart as he moved his mouth to the center of his chest, starting a trail of moist kisses down his stomach, stopping just above the folded over waist of his boxers.

He tugged at the boxers, and House lifted himself just enough for Anthony to slide them off his body, leaving him fully exposed. Anthony lightly stroked the inside of his thighs with his thumbs, feeling the muscle flex in response, hearing the noises of pleasure when those thumbs moved into the creases where the leg met the hip joint.

House automatically spread his legs as far as he could, giving Anthony full access to him. He took full advantage, pressing small kisses near his center before taking him into his mouth, evoking a whole new set of sounds from the older man. He kept going, bringing House right to the edge before backing off, pushing himself up to meet his eyes.

"What the hell..." House's voice was rough with a mixture of desire and confusion. "You stopped. Why?"

"Want to try something. Are you game?" Anthony leaned down, lightly brushing House's lips with his own.

"Maybe..."

"Good. Turn over." Anthony's voice took on a firmer tone, and for some reason House found it undeniably sexy. He easily acquiesced, rolling over onto his stomach, reasonably sure of what he was agreeing to.

He felt Anthony over him, his hands on his waist, his lips trailing down his neck and spine. The sensation sent a chill through him as Anthony left a final kiss in the middle of his back before leaning over to whisper in his ear. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

_Couldn't if I wanted to_, House thought to himself as he heard Anthony rustle around in his bag. The curiosity was killing him.

Soon he felt the mattress sink as Anthony climbed back into bed, and House felt something scrape along his spine, followed by Anthony's body pressing against him.

"Do you trust me?" Anthony's voice was whisper soft in House's ear.

"Maybe."

"I'm not going to hurt you." Anthony kissed him along his neck near his ear. "You can stop me anytime, okay?"

House grinned at the thought. "How do you know I'll want to?"

"Never know." Anthony kept up the trail of kisses, moving to the back of House's neck. His hand slid down around his waist, while his mouth wandered down his spine. House was filled with desire and anticipation as Anthony reached for the small bottle that was next to him, squirting a small amount on his fingers, rubbing it on House before slipping a finger inside him.

The feeling caught House by surprise, causing him to tense slightly before relaxing into the sensation, allowing Anthony to explore deeper. God...he was actually enjoying this, and he wanted more.

The low moan spurred Anthony on, and he dared to push a second finger inside, watching House squirm under him. He licked the back of House's neck, starting at his shoulder blades and ending at his hairline, and House let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl.

Anthony removed his fingers, grabbing the packet and ripping it open with his teeth, quickly covering himself before pressing against House once again. "Ready for me?"

"Been ready." House choked out, all notion of rational thought out the window now.

Anthony slowly eased in, taking his time, careful not to cause House unnecessary pain. "Still okay?"

"_Yes._ Quit asking already." House snapped irritably. "You're killing the mood."

Anthony couldn't help but chuckle a little before moving to nip at House's neck, slowly moving in and out of him. "Better?"

House closed his eyes, easily falling into the rhythm Anthony was setting. This was better than...better. He pushed back against Anthony, matching him stroke for stroke, bracing himself on his elbows with his hands splayed out.

Anthony wrapped an arm around House, spreading out his hand along his stomach, drifting through the hair to his nipple, stroking it roughly with his thumb.

It was almost more than House could take, in the best possible way. Anthony started to pick up speed, working his way down House's neck and along his shoulder with his lips and tongue and teeth, rolling House over to his stomach as he did so. He stretched out to grab House's wrists, gripping them with a strength that surprised and thrilled House as he continued to pump into him, his rough chest hair brushing against House's back.

The multiple levels of stimulation brought House ever closer to that edge, his mind having long since lost control over his body. The combination of the constantly flexing muscle and the almost animal-like sounds that fell from House's lips sucked Anthony in, and he pumped harder into House, tightening his grip on House's wrists. He found the one spot on House's neck that made the man nearly scream out, nibbling and licking, watching as House came undone beneath him.

It was amazing, extraordinary, and Anthony could no longer contain himself, releasing and collapsing heavily on top of the older man. He released House's wrists, a little embarrassed at the red marks he left around them. That was nothing compared to the mark he had left on House's neck. The thing was almost the size of a quarter.

"Don't leave me hanging, boy." A voice growled beneath him. "Just because you're done doesn't mean I am."

"My bad, hon." Anthony slipped out of House, disposing of the condom and returning to lie next to him. House had rolled over onto his back, and Anthony straddled him, leaning down for a long, slow kiss while reaching down between House's legs, taking hold of him and stroking him.

House closed his eyes, wrapping his hands around Anthony's waist and spreading his fingers out to lightly caress him. Anthony's lips lightly touched the base of his throat, followed by a flick of his tongue while his other hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

Anthony watched House's facial expressions change as he got closer, and he could feel House's body tense underneath him, arching upward as he finally released, a ragged sigh escaping his lips as he pulled Anthony to him, holding him tightly.

"You're going to be the death of me, Tony boy."

Anthony laughed, placing his head on House's chest. "Well, if you've got to go...there are worse ways."

"Damn right." House placed a gentle kiss on Anthony's forehead. "Did I hear you right earlier?"

"What do you mean?" Anthony was baffled.

"You called me 'hon'. What was that about?"

Anthony's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Probably just the heat of the moment. No need to pick it apart."

"Hmm...interesting."

Anthony extricated himself from House's arms, pushing himself up and off the bed. "Seriously. It's not that big a deal." He found his sleep pants in the doorway, tugging them on before digging through his bag for his toiletries. "I'm taking a shower."

"Okay." House answered sleepily, his mind still working over Anthony's statement. He found it interesting that he was so embarrassed over such a small word. It wasn't as if it bothered House. It was just...interesting.

He closed his eyes, pushing the mystery aside for the time being. A short nap while Anthony showered sounded like just the thing to recharge him. He would have plenty of opportunity to tease the boy about his choice of words later.

# # #

Anthony started the water for the shower, quickly undressing and climbing in, resisting the urge to bang his still-healing head against the tile wall. He never would have known he had dropped that stupid little endearment if House hadn't said anything. Leave it to House to not only pick up something so small, but to call Anthony on it as well.

It shouldn't be such a big deal, really. House had merely found it 'interesting'. Anthony didn't like the sound of that. He already knew that meant that House had a hold of this bone, and he wasn't going to let it go until he found the truth behind it, much like his medical mysteries that he loved so much.

He let the hot water wash over him as he washed, feeling soreness in unexpected places. If he ever needed proof that he wasn't a kid anymore, this was it. Now that House was starting to open up a little, it was leading Anthony on his own adventure. If they ever found themselves on that piano bench again...Anthony smirked at the thought. That's probably why he was so damned sore. That and...well...this morning's activities probably had a little something to do with it, too.

God, his mind was all over the damn place today. He hadn't felt so scrambled since...well, ever. House was definitely doing his part to keep him on his toes. It was fun, exciting, thrilling. Anthony did wonder how long the ride could possibly last. As much as House struggled with the idea of any sort of commitment, Anthony did, too. He couldn't really remember his last fully committed relationship. His on again-off again thing with Drew hardly counted.

The sound of the shower curtain opening snapped Anthony out of his thoughts as House stepped in behind him. "Got room for one more?"

"Of course." Anthony started to step back to allow House to get to the shower spray, bumping into House instead. "Thought you wanted the shower."

"That too." House leaned down to give the younger man a brief kiss on the neck before stepping under the water, soaking himself from head to toe. The still hot water felt good on his surprisingly sore muscles. Anthony had given him one hell of a workout over the last couple of days, and he was feeling every bit of it right now. Not that he was complaining, not by a long shot. He'd probably gotten more action in the last two weeks than he had in the last ten years, paid companionship notwithstanding.

Anthony watched him for a long moment, admiring the older man's still muscular physique as the water flowed over his body. The image of that same body squirming under him in bed earlier flashed in his mind, and he shook his head to clear it. He was too damn tired to follow through on any desire his body might have in mind, and he suspected House might feel the same.

House turned around before Anthony could leave, grinning when he saw Anthony still standing there, leaning against the tile wall. He limped forward, placing his hands on either side of Anthony, his sapphire blues meeting his emerald greens as he nearly touched noses with Anthony.

"Stay or go. Pick one." House briefly leaned in to kiss the younger man. "I'm good with either one."

Anthony chuckled, a little embarrassed at being caught checking House out. "Think I'd better go this time. Wouldn't want to wear you out."

"Not going to happen." House laughed, a hearty, rich sound that Anthony couldn't recall hearing before. "If I remember correctly, I wasn't the one on top."

"Fine. You take the top next time." Anthony laughed as he stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself. "You're at least as good at it as I am."

House poked his head out of the shower. "You don't even know what a compliment that is, do you?" His face turned thoughtful. "This has to be one of the strangest conversations I've ever had. Huh."

He was back in the shower before Anthony could even respond. Anthony merely shook his head and turned to the sink to shave, wiping the fog off the mirror. He hadn't gotten a good look at himself yet today, and he was a little surprised to see several small marks on his neck. If Simon got a look at those, he would have a field day teasing Anthony. He grinned to himself, assuming House had no idea about the mark that Anthony had left on him. Anthony couldn't wait to hear about how House would explain that one away.

Anthony finished shaving and wandered back to the bedroom, pulling his clothes out of his bag, along with the flame bandanna that House had brought him. He pulled a gray t-shirt over his head, followed by a large black hooded sweatshirt and jeans, tying the flame bandanna around his head.

House came limping in as he finished, the steam still rising from his skin, the subtle scent of his soap wafting as he passed by. He glanced at Anthony as he dug through drawers in search of clothes, coming up with a black band t-shirt and jeans, pulling a dark blue button down shirt from the closet.

"I see you're rocking the bitchin' bandanna." House's mouth quirked in amusement.

Anthony grinned in response. "Got tired of your bitching about my purple one."

"So you _can_ be taught. Good to know." House snarked in return as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, sitting down on the edge of the bed to ease on boxers and jeans. He seemed to pale slightly as he bent his right leg, and Anthony frowned in concern.

"Everything okay?" Anthony tried to hit the right mix of concern and respectful distance.

House nodded, still rubbing at his thigh. "Just stiff, that's all." Finally he rose, pulling up his boxers and jeans and putting on the button down shirt, rolling up the sleeves halfway up his forearms. He passed by Anthony, who was still regarding him with a concerned look. "Quit fussing."

"That's my line." Anthony affectionately patted House's rear as he limped past, evoking a glare from the older man. He looked as if he was going to say something, but broke into a small grin instead as he made his way out of the bedroom.

Now Anthony was curious. He followed House out of the bedroom and found him in the living room shoving his feet into a pair of running shoes.

Anthony leaned over the back of the couch, an interested expression on his face. "What was all that?"

"All what?"

"First you were mad, then you were amused. What's the deal?"

House's mouth twisted into a half smile. "Just thinking." He leaned back against the couch. "Not two weeks ago I was telling you hands off my ass, and now...well. You know."

Anthony chuckled and kissed the top of House's head. "Funny how quickly things change, isn't it?"

"Yep." House rose and made his way to the coatrack near the door, grabbing his leather jacket. "Still up for food?"

"Of course." Anthony found his own shoes and pulled them on his feet. "As long as you're buying."

"After I just put out? That's messed up." House spoke in mock indignation.

"Right. Like I'm not going to somehow make it up to you." Anthony came up behind House, setting his chin on his shoulder and his hands on House's waist, taking in the scent of his soap in combination with his leather jacket.

House regarded Anthony skeptically, twisting his mouth thoughtfully. "Fine. You win this time." He shook his head as he paused near the apartment door. "You know, you'd think somebody would write a book on this stuff or something."

Anthony laughed and stepped back from House, following him out the door. "Sorry. If there is a 'Rules for Queer Dating' book out there, I've never seen it."

House turned the idea over in his mind as they climbed into the car and started down the road. He was definitely flying blind, more so than in any other relationship he'd ever been in. Relationships had always been a puzzle to House, one that he had never been able to figure out. He wondered when he had given up on that particular puzzle and shut himself down.

When Stacy had returned a few years ago, pleading him for help with her husband...something had stirred in House then, absolutely. After he sent her away...that was it. That was precisely when he had shut himself down. He was already guarded then, letting precious few people in. After that, he had stopped letting them in altogether, resigning himself to a solitary existence. It had worked for him, or so he thought, until the last year or so. Maybe if he'd had someone around, he wouldn't have spiraled so far down. Maybe, just maybe, someone would have caught him on the way down.

He blinked his eyes furiously, trying to keep his eyes focused on the wet road ahead of him. Finally he pulled into the parking lot of the diner, finding a spot near the door and hanging his handicapped tag from the mirror.

Anthony happened to look over just then, noticing something trickling out of the corner of House's eye. He reached out to wipe it away, and House snapped his head around, wearing that same pained expression as last night.

Anthony simply cupped House's rough cheek in his hand, stroking the cheekbone with his thumb. "Talk to me, big guy."

House leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and shaking his head. The only sound in the car was House's breath hitching and the rain pattering on the roof. Finally he sighed heavily, pulling Anthony to him and burying his face in his shoulder, saying something Anthony couldn't quite understand.

Anthony responded by wrapping his arms around House, letting him unload, waiting for the shaking to stop. Finally House took one last deep sigh and set his chin on Anthony's shoulder, briefly kissing him on the neck.

"Better now?" Anthony asked gently.

House nodded and raised his head. "Yeah. Sorry about your shirt. I kind of made a mess of it."

"No big." Anthony unwrapped himself from House and reached up to stroke his face. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not really." House rubbed his eyes, still stunned at his emotional outburst. "Could do with some food, though."

"Sounds good." Anthony squeezed House's shoulder and the two men climbed out of the car. The rain had slowed down to a mere sprinkle, and House leaned on the roof of the car, looking over at Anthony.

"Hey." Anthony lifted his head to look over at House. House glanced aside, his fingers twisting and untwisting, finally meeting Anthony's eyes. "Glad to have you around."

Anthony smiled slightly. "Yeah...me too."

House smiled a little in return, and the pair entered the diner. He hadn't intended to test Anthony, but if what had transpired in the car was a test, Anthony had passed with flying colors. He felt a glimmer of...something. Hope? No, that couldn't be it. Hope was for sissies, and House was anything but. It was definitely something, though. Whatever it was, it didn't matter just then. Right now House was more focused on filling the emptiness in his stomach. The emptiness in his heart and soul was already on its way to getting filled.

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**It's that time again. Push the button and tell me what you think. :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Don't own them. Never have, never will. I own all the O/Cs.**

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Wilson and Michaels were deep in conversation when he heard the jingle of the bell over the entrance to the diner. He barely paid any attention to who entered, however, as he was focused on the lovely redhead that sat across from him. Their evening of Chinese food and Hitchcock movies had definitely turned into a whole lot more, and Michaels had ended up staying the night.

He reached across the table to take her hand, lifting it to his lips to press a small kiss into her palm. She had been so sweet, so understanding the night before. It made Wilson like her all the more.

Michaels laughed gently at Wilson's action. "What was that for?"

"For last night." Wilson responded simply. "I still can't believe I called you Amber."

"And I told you...it's fine." Michaels' voice and expression softened. "Who was she, anyway?"

A cloud seemed to cross Wilson's face as the memory came rushing back to him. "My girlfriend. She...died."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well..." Wilson shrugged, letting go of Michaels' hand and glancing down at his plate. "It's been a while. I'm over it."

"No, you're not." Michaels tilted her head, watching Wilson's changing expression. "Trust me, it's not something you just 'get over'. It takes time...and lots of it."

The waitress dropped off the bill, and Wilson picked it up as he slid out of the booth, Michaels following behind him. He paid at the counter and the two of them left the diner, walking under the awning.

Anthony noticed them first. "Hey, I think I recognize her...Greg, isn't that Wilson?"

House looked up from his menu, glancing out the window at the two people that were chatting just outside where he and Anthony sat. "I'll be damned. Yeah, that's him. And that's the woman I hooked him up with."

"Really..." Anthony's mouth quirked in amusement. "That's the doctor that discharged me. Simon swore she was trying to flirt with me."

"Small damned world." House chuckled. He watched his best friend and Michaels chat, Wilson lightly touching her hands. He was completely enamored of her, anyone could see that. It was a look House hadn't seen on Wilson since...Amber.

House sighed, turning away from the window and stretching out his leg along the seat of the booth. Suddenly the desire to mess with his best friend left him. Wilson deserved this chance at happiness, and he didn't need House to screw up another good thing for him.

Anthony glanced at House's brooding form from across the table. Something very deep was clearly going on, and Anthony knew the chance of getting it out of House was somewhere between slim and none. He would tell him when he was good and ready, and not a minute before. He returned to the newspaper he had in front of him, poring over movie listings.

"Hey, you." Anthony's voice broke House out of his brooding thoughts. "Interested in seeing a movie?"

House shifted so that he faced Anthony once again. "Sure, why not?"

"Anything in particular you want to see?"

"Nah, I'm not fussy." House reached out to touch Anthony's hand, resting his chin in his other hand as he looked across the table at him. "Especially since chances are pretty good we'll never see the movie."

"What do you mean...oh." Anthony snorted. "You're funny. How does a four o'clock show sound? Maybe we could do dinner afterwards."

"I'm good with whatever. I just like...this." House's mouth twisted in a little smile as he brushed his thumb across the top of Anthony's hand.

The waitress dropped the bill on the table with a little snort of disgust. House scowled at her in response. "What? You've never seen a guy holding his boyfriend's hand? You can forget about a damned tip with that attitude."

Anthony laughed, secretly pleased that House publicly acknowledged their relationship. House grinned and winked at Anthony, draining the last of his coffee and picking up the bill.

They walked up to the counter, and House pulled out his debit card and handed it to the waitress who now worked the register. If looks could kill, House would have been a pile of blood and bones on the floor, of that Anthony was certain.

He signed the receipt, smirking as he handed it back to the waitress and turning to leave. Suddenly he grabbed Anthony and pulled him close.

"Greg, what the hell are you doing?" Anthony hissed, startled.

"Just go with it." House murmured, leaning down to capture Anthony's lips in a full kiss, slipping in some tongue for good measure. He finally released Anthony, saying loud enough for the waitress to hear, "Come on, babe. We'll be late for our movie."

Anthony snickered as House placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him out of the diner. "You sure gave her one hell of a show. She'll be traumatized for life now."

"I doubt it." House chuckled as he unlocked the car doors. "That was kind of fun, though."

"True." Anthony climbed into the car and buckled up. "Okay if we swing by my place before the movie? I need to check in on a couple of things."

"Sure, no problem." House started the car and backed out of the space, finally giving in to the temptation of screwing with his best friend, just a little. He honked as he passed Wilson and Michaels, just as Wilson looked like he was going in for a kiss.

Wilson was startled, then relaxed when he saw who it was. Michaels was baffled. "Who was that?"

"Just House." Wilson leaned in again for a long kiss under the awning. "You know...we've got some time before the play. Maybe I can...make up for last night?" He waggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively.

Michaels chuckled, then reached up to caress Wilson's cheek. "You've got nothing to make up for. You're not the first person to call a new partner by the old one's name, and I'm sure you won't be the last."

"Did you ever...you know..."

"Sure did." Michaels smiled a little at the memory. "The first man I dated after my husband died. I called him by my husband's name. I was absolutely mortified, and he wasn't so understanding."

"How long had it been?"

"Two years." Michaels answered softly. "See why I'm cutting you so much slack?"

Wilson's soft brown eyes seemed to burn through her as he looked down at Michaels. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that, _Lillian_."

"Actually, _James_, I do." Michaels reached up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on Wilson. "Now, about this suggestion you had in mind..."

Wilson grinned shyly as he took Michaels' hand and led her to his car. If she could pick up and move on after her husband's death, surely he could do the same. Shutting himself down and hiding away wouldn't bring Amber back, and he had to admit, this new thing with Michaels had a lot of potential. He owed it to himself, and to a certain extent, House, to give her a chance.

# # #

House pulled up in front of Anthony's building, and the younger man quickly climbed out, lightly patting House on the hand. "Won't be but a minute."

He closed the car door behind him, trotting up the stairs to his building, unlocking his mailbox. Finding nothing there, he frowned slightly and strode down the hall to his apartment.

As he let himself in, he looked around. Something felt...off, somehow, but Anthony couldn't put his finger on it. Nothing appeared out of place, although he did notice the empty picture frame above his TV was now missing completely.

Still suspicious, Anthony walked down the hall to his bedroom with the intention of grabbing another change of clothes and a different pair of sleep pants. Not to assume that he would be staying over at House's again, but it never hurt to be prepared.

"Where have you been all night, Tony baby?" Drew was lounging across Anthony's bed, feet crossed over at the ankles, acting as if he owned the place.

Anthony silently cursed to himself. He had forgotten that Drew still had a key to his place. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought I made it clear we were over."

Drew sat up and rose from the bed, meeting Anthony at the door. "You've said that so many times that I've just learned to not let it bother me. Figured I'd just give you a little time to cool off."

Anthony snorted derisively as he pushed past Drew and into the bedroom. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" He quickly grabbed a change of clothes and sleep pants and moved past Drew again, making his way to the living room.

Drew frowned, following him. "Going somewhere?"

"Duh, dumbass." Anthony muttered under his breath. Out loud he added, "Gotta go. Greg's waiting."

Drew twisted his mouth in either disappointment or disapproval. Anthony wasn't particularly concerned with which. "What happened to our picture?"

Anthony met Drew with a steely gaze. "I shredded it."

The other man had the nerve to act hurt. "Why would you do something like that? Fine, you're mad at me, I get that. But to destroy something that meant so much to us? Makes no sense, Tony baby."

"Meant so much to _me_." Anthony shot back. "It didn't mean _shit_ to you." He briskly walked into the kitchen, finding a plastic grocery bag under the sink and throwing the clothes into it. Dammit, he should have brought his bag with him. It would have made this a lot easier.

"Of course it meant something to me." Drew's voice dropped to a low tone as he came up behind Anthony, and normally Anthony would have fallen for its sweet, seductive sound. "I never meant to hurt you, you know."

Anthony's shoulders drooped, just for a moment. At one time, he would have willed himself to believe that. Finally he straightened up, turning to face Drew. "I'm sure there's some small part of you that believes that. I'm also sure that hurting people is just a habit for you. You never _mean _it. It just sort of..._happens_, right?"

"Right." Drew's face lit up a little. "I knew you'd understand."

"Oh, I understand it alright." Anthony countered, his light tone covering his rising anger. "I'm just no longer willing to put up with it." He pushed Drew aside and strode through the kitchen to the living room, picking up his keys and tossing them in his hand, looking thoughtful. "Oh, and I'll take my key back, too. Wouldn't want you just waltzing in here."

Drew pulled his keys out of his pocket, fiddling with them briefly, his mouth twisting once again. "She's divorcing me, you know."

"Smartest thing she's ever done." Anthony snapped. "Seriously, my key."

The other man looked devastated. "Tony baby...I've got nowhere to go. She's already kicked me out."

"Not. My. Problem." Anthony held out his hand. "Give me my damn key."

"Tony..." Drew closed the distance between them, lightly stroking Anthony's cheek. "You told me I could show up any time, day or night. What happened to that?"

"Things change." Anthony snarled and batted Drew's hand away. "Give me my key and get the fuck out of here."

Drew's eyes glittered as a sneer curled his lip. "You're hot when you're pissed. Bet you still like that dirty talk in bed, too."

Anthony smirked. "Bet you'll never find out again."

A knock on the door interrupted whatever Drew was going to say. It was the distinctive sound of wood-on-wood, and that could only mean one person. Anthony backed away from Drew and threw open the door, revealing a frowning House.

"Sorry." Anthony tensely apologized. "I kind of got held up."

"I see that." House glared at Drew.

"Oh don't worry." Drew spoke up. "I was just leaving." He tucked his keys in his pocket and headed to the door, where House was still standing.

Anthony cleared his throat loudly and held out his hand. "You're forgetting something."

"Right." Drew slowly pulled his keys out of his pocket, taking his time finding the right one. "If you're sure about this..."

"Oh, I'm very sure." Anthony folded his arms over his chest.

Drew's eyes flicked from the older man in the doorway back to Anthony and back again. Finally he shook his head, taking the key off his key ring and tossing it to Anthony. "You're making a big mistake, Tony baby. The old man there can't possibly love you like I do."

House rolled his eyes, and Anthony bit back a snicker as he easily caught the key, tucking it in his pocket. There was really nothing left to say. Drew turned around and left the apartment, bumping House as he did so.

House closed the door behind him, snorting in disgust. "What an idiot. 'He can't love you like I can.' Like that's a _bad _thing." He turned to see Anthony still standing in the living room, arms wrapped around himself, shaking slightly and breathing heavily.

"You're not going to start crying, are you?" House thumped his cane on the carpeted floor. "I don't do so well with crying people, especially guys."

"I'm fine." Anthony spoke sharply, but quietly.

House groaned inwardly, limping over to Anthony and awkwardly putting an arm around him. "No, you're not."

Anthony chuckled. "No, I'm not." He relaxed and put his arms around House. "I suppose you're wondering why he was here."

"I'm going to assume he was up to no good. Beyond that...I'm not sure I need to know." House lightly kissed Anthony and released him. "Did I tell you I really suck at the whole comforting thing?"

"You're not so bad." Anthony stepped back and squeezed House's arms. "I'll give you an E for effort."

House snorted and shook his head. "Still want to hit that movie?"

"Hell yes." Anthony picked up the grocery bag and followed House out the door, locking it behind him. It reminded him of something. He patted the pocket that contained the key. Maybe later he'd find a way to present it to House. Anthony wasn't sure how the older man would react, but it was worth a shot to find out.

# # #

House and Anthony settled into their seats at the theater, finding an aisle seat so that House could stretch out his leg. It was quiet for a Saturday afternoon, only about a quarter full.

"So what are we seeing, anyway?" House asked between bites of popcorn.

"'Star Trek'. I saw it during the first run, but it's worth seeing again."

"Figures." House rolled his eyes, vaguely remembering Kutner's child-like excitement over the then-upcoming movie release. He never did get to see it, and the fact filled House with an odd sadness. He pushed the feeling aside in favor of picking on Anthony. "So...lots of whacked-out totally implausible science mumbo-jumbo?"

Anthony grinned at House's mocking tone. "Believe it or not, it's more a straight-up action flick than sci-fi. I think you'll like it. Besides...the guy who plays Kirk? Totally. Hot."

"I'll make my own judgement on that, thanks." House rolled his eyes, popping a piece of popcorn in Anthony's mouth. He scowled and winced when he felt something hit his outstretched foot. "Hey, watch where you're going."

"Sorry." A familiar dry voice reached his ears, and House looked up to see Taub and the woman who must have been his wife beside his seat. "House?"

"Taub!" House grinned. "Nice to see you. And this lovely woman must be your _wife_, right?" He leaned over and stage whispered to Taub. "She _is_ your wife, right? Would be terribly awkward if she wasn't."

"Yes, House. This is my wife, Rachel." Taub looked mildly annoyed as he turned to Rachel. "Rachel, this is my boss, Doctor House."

"Nice to meet you." Rachel smiled and extended her hand. "And who's your...friend?"

"Oh, right." House leaned back. "This is Tony. Tony, this is Doctor Taub and his wife Rachel. Taub's part of the diagnostics team."

"Nice to meet you." Anthony extended his hand to Taub and his wife.

Taub's mind started working, thinking about the bet he had going with Foreman. "So...you're a _friend _of House's?"

House spoke up before Anthony could open his mouth. "More like friends with benefits, if you know what I mean." He gave Taub an exaggerated wink.

Taub blinked, an expression of surprise barely showing on his face. If House wasn't just messing with his head...well, he didn't want to think about that right now. Although...Taub did notice a mark on House's neck, about halfway down and near the back. He cleared his throat and motioned to Rachel. "I guess we'll be finding our seats now. See you Monday, House. Nice meeting you, Tony."

House and Anthony said their goodbyes and the couple continued down the aisle. House slumped down in his seat, chuckling to himself.

Anthony wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he couldn't help asking. "What's so funny?"

"Foreman bet Taub fifty bucks that you and me were sleeping together." House whispered as the lights went down and the previews started.

"Refresh my memory. Who's Foreman?"

"Black guy. Neurologist. He came into your room to do the neuro exam."

"Oh yeah, now I remember." Anthony snickered. "He only bet fifty? Lame."

"That's what I told him." House agreed. "Doesn't matter, though. Taub's going to be pissed Monday morning when he gives up that fifty bucks."

"Shh. Movie's starting." Anthony shoved a couple of pieces of popcorn in House's mouth, and House nipped at Anthony's fingers as he did so. "Ow! Brat."

House grinned as he settled in his seat, playfully reaching out for Anthony's hand. This was fun. He didn't give a damn if the movie turned out to be lame. At least he had good company, and he was grateful for that.

Anthony was oddly touched by House's move. He was a brat, but he at least he was good company. Right now, he couldn't ask for more than that.

# # #

House and Anthony ended up back at House's apartment after the movie and a quick stop at the grocery store. Anthony decided he'd rather cook than go out, and House quickly agreed to the plan. Soon the apartment was filled with the smell of slow-simmering chicken and white bean chili, and Anthony came out to join him at the piano.

"Don't get too close, boy." House smirked as he played. "Crazy things have been known to happen on this thing."

"So I've heard." Anthony responded lightly, taking a drink from his beer.

"Got one more of those?" House didn't look up from the keys.

"Right here." Anthony presented House with a beer of his own.

House took a long drink, then set the bottle on a coaster on top of the piano. He gently played, his long fingers sweeping over the keys, graceful and elegant. "So...about Drew."

"I figured you'd ask eventually." Anthony huffed, irritated by the man's intrusion into their peaceful evening. "He was at my place when I went in. I forgot that he still had a key."

"Thought you gave him the kiss-off last night." House sounded calm, but there was an edge of something underneath. Anthony wasn't sure what it was.

"I did. He just doesn't know how to take a hint."

House nodded briefly, continuing to play. "He scared you."

"Yeah, he kind of did." Anthony spoke quietly. "I didn't know what he was going to do. He told me his wife was divorcing him and he had nowhere to go."

"Too bad for him." House growled quietly.

"That's what I told him. He didn't even start giving me that sob story until I asked for my key back." Anthony rose from the bench, planting a kiss on the top of House's head and digging the key out of his pocket. He set it next to House's beer and headed to the kitchen.

House stopped playing and picked up the key, frowning as he examined it. He heaved himself off the bench, grabbing his cane and limping into the kitchen. Anthony was stirring up the chili, and House leaned against the island.

"What's this for?" Anthony jumped at the sound of House's voice. He was twirling the key in his impossibly long fingers.

"It's a free pass to my place." Anthony attempted to explain his logic. "From what you've told me, you work some crazy hours when you've got a case going. This way...you can just show up whenever." He moved closer to House, placing a hand on either side of him on the countertop. "Good food, good coffee, and..me. I guess...that's what I'm offering."

"A few of my favorite things." A ghost of a smile crossed House's rough face as he brushed a kiss to Anthony's lips. "I get what you're trying to do, but...I guess I just need to think about it."

Anthony was a little disappointed as House pressed the key back in his hand. "Well...the offer still stands. Your own key just makes it easier, that's all."

"I said I'd think about it." House told him firmly, gently pushing Anthony away and limping out of the kitchen. "How long until dinner?"

"About an hour."

"Good." House nodded. "Think I'll lay down for a while. Come get me?"

"You bet."

House limped into the bedroom, worn out from the day's events. It had been fun, mostly, the whole Drew drama aside, but the lack of sleep from the night before was finally catching up with him. He changed into a pair of lounge pants, curling up on his side and pulling the covers over him. They smelled like a blend of his scent and Anthony's, and House found it oddly comforting.

He felt the mattress shift next to him, and Anthony's arm wrapped around him, his body pressed to House's. House's lips quirked in amusement. "That was a quick hour."

"Figured I'd copy you. A nap sounded good to me, too." Anthony pressed a small kiss to the back of his neck. "Look, I wasn't trying to pressure you into anything by giving you that key."

"I know that." House spoke softly. "It just...implies things, you know?"

"Sure." Anthony found House's hand and intertwined his fingers with House's.

They were silent for a while, and Anthony thought the older man had fallen asleep until he turned over on his back, moving his hand to wrap it around Anthony, pulling him close so that he lay on his chest. "I could fall for you so easily, you know that?"

Anthony was stunned by House's sudden admission. "So what's stopping you?"

"How long have you got?" House chuckled ironically.

Anthony reached up to kiss House's stubbled jaw. "As long as you need."

House nodded, a lump growing in his throat. "That's...good to know." He pressed a kiss to Anthony's forehead. Maybe he would consider taking that key Anthony offered after all.

# # #

**Review time! Push the green button and tell me what you think. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**You know the drill. I don't own them, I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement, and hopefully yours. O/Cs are all mine.**

# # #

It was well past midnight when Wilson finally dropped Michaels off at her house. The play had been wonderful, and the dessert and conversation that had followed left them each wanting more.

"I should go." Michaels murmured in between small kisses.

"I know." Wilson said simply, brushing his lips along her softly vanilla-scented neck. "I hate to let you, though."

"There will be other weekends, I'm sure." Michaels tilted her head back, enjoying the feel of Wilson's soft lips on her neck and throat.

"You can count on that." Wilson placed a hand on the back of her head, gently pulling her hair loose, feeling it spill over his hand. He pulled her in close, guiding her with a hand on the small of her back, pressing his lips to hers, deepening the kiss. It was slow, sweet, gentle, and it made Michaels weak. She wrapped her arms around him, not wanting to let him go.

Finally they broke apart, each of them panting from the rush that overcame them. "No, really. I have to go." Michaels firmly told Wilson, a small laugh escaping her.

"Okay, okay." Wilson laughed softly. "I'll let you go...this time." He lightly squeezed her hand as she turned to let herself in.

She turned around, planting one last kiss on him. "Good night, James. Thank you for the weekend. It was lovely."

Wilson blinked in surprise, breaking into a small grin that crinkled his brown eyes. "Good night, Lillian. The pleasure was...almost all mine. I'll see you."

Michaels disappeared into her house, leaving Wilson standing on her porch in a brief daze. Finally he snapped out of it, laughing to himself and shaking his head. He turned and trotted down the steps back to his car, humming to himself as he climbed in and started the Volvo.

The woman was just...God, amazing. There was no other way to describe her. Smart, sassy, a wicked sense of humor, with a love of classic films and theater. And that didn't even get into how she was in the bedroom. Good Lord. Wilson hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd felt that sort of raw, passionate _need, _the feel of a woman's soft body in his arms, her hands and lips and mouth roaming over him.

It had been too damned long, and Wilson knew it. Hell, House must have known it, too. He wouldn't have practically bullied Wilson into talking to Michaels in the first place if he hadn't.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, debating whether to call House or not. Not that it would make a difference. The man rarely answered his phone unless he had a patient, and never did when he had any downtime. Now that House had someone in his life, it was even less likely that he'd answer his phone.

Wilson was still reconciling himself with the idea of House with a man. Every time he thought he accepted the idea, something else always came up to throw a monkey wrench into his thoughts. It just seemed so odd to him that House had kept this part of him hidden for so many years, and that he chose _now_ to reveal it.

He finally gave up analyzing it. House was a walking enigma, always had been, always would be. Wilson finally decided to drive by House's place. Chances were good that he had continued his night owl ways, and if there was a light on in the living room, Wilson would drop in. If not...well...he would just head home, just as he'd originally planned. No harm, no foul.

# # #

House roused when he heard the knock on his door, taking a minute to reorient himself. Anthony lay across his lap, snoring quietly, and the DVD screensaver bounced around the TV screen. They must have fallen asleep during whatever movie they were watching. House couldn't even remember what it was.

The knock became a little more insistent, and House rolled his eyes. He could really only think of one person that would bother coming over so late. Finally he called out, "It's open."

The door opened quietly, revealing Wilson. House placed a finger over his lips in a 'shh' gesture, pointing to the younger man sprawled out across his lap. Wilson nodded, oddly touched by the scene, and quietly made his way to the armchair, easing himself into it and leaning forward.

"There's still beer and chili if you want some." House quietly offered, not wanting to disturb Anthony.

"That's okay. I don't plan on staying long." Wilson twisted his fingers together, gesturing in Anthony's direction. "So things are good here?"

House's mouth twisted in a surprisingly gentle expression, one that Wilson hadn't seen on House in years. "Yeah, surprisingly enough. The boy seems to like me."

"You sound surprised."

"I am." House's blunt honesty took Wilson by surprise. "He tried to give me a key."

Wilson's bushy eyebrows shot up. "To his place?"

"No, you moron. To his heart." House snapped. "Of course to his place. That was after he wrangled it back from his ex-thing."

"Ah." Wilson sat back in the chair. "So you didn't take it, then."

"Told him I had to think about it." House threw Wilson a sharp look. There were times when the oncologist knew him just a little too well for comfort. This was one of them.

Wilson shrugged. "It's not exactly a small step."

"I know." House's voice took on a quiet, thoughtful tone as he absentmindedly caressed Anthony's arm, and Wilson suddenly felt like an intruder. "I don't want to fuck this up, Wilson."

"Looks like you're doing okay so far." Wilson tilted his head, noticing a distinctive mark on House's neck. "And it looks like he's...taking pretty good care of you, too."

House frowned, not sure what Wilson was referring to. Come to think of it, Taub had given him a similar look earlier. Wilson smirked slightly, gesturing to his own neck. "You've got a little something right there."

"Son of a bitch." House grumbled, mildly embarrassed as he touched a slightly raised spot on his neck. Wilson couldn't help but chuckle a little at House's discomfort. House glared at him, making his own observations as he studied Wilson's face. "Like you've got any room to talk. What does Michaels call that color, anyway?"

"What...?" Now it was Wilson's turn to be embarrassed as he wiped at his face, coming away with a bit of copper-colored lipstick on his hand. "Oh, no you don't. No deflecting."

"I'm not deflecting. I'm segueing." House leaned his head against the couch, stilling his hand and letting it rest on Anthony's arm as the younger man stirred slightly. "So I take it things are good on your end, too."

A slow smile crept onto Wilson's face, his brown eyes becoming narrow slits. "Very good. Have I thanked you for hooking us up?"

"Sounds like you haven't really had a chance." House chuckled and waggled his eyebrows.

Wilson blushed, dropping his eyes to the floor. "She's...unbelievable. I really like her."

"Good." House nodded firmly. "You deserve it."

Wilson nearly had to pick up his jaw from the floor at House's statement. "Why are you doing this? I mean, why now?"

House huffed and shifted uncomfortably. "Can't really explain it. I guess...I'm not the only one who needs to move forward."

Wilson nodded, getting some idea of what House meant, even if the older man was having trouble expressing it. "Amber...you know...she really wasn't your fault."

House closed his eyes, twisting his mouth. "Sort of was, sort of wasn't. If I hadn't gotten butt-wasted...I never would have needed to call you." His blue eyes seemed to take on a shine that Wilson hadn't seen in ages, not since House lay in that hospital bed, silently pleading for...forgiveness, redemption, something. "I wanted to save her, Wilson. I really did."

"I know you did." Wilson dared to reach out to place his hand over House's that stretched out along the arm of the couch. "You damn near killed yourself doing it. I never should have allowed it."

"Well...it doesn't matter now, does it? Doesn't make her any less dead."

"No, no it doesn't." Wilson agreed, feeling a lump growing in his own throat. Both of them were carrying a heavy load over Amber, a load that would probably never be dumped completely. He briefly squeezed House's hand and rose from the chair. "Thank you."

House lifted his head, baffled. "For what?"

"For..." Wilson gestured expansively, shrugging his shoulders. "...this. Everything, I guess. I don't know." He walked around the back of the couch, patting House's shoulder as he passed. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah." House's voice was still rough. "See you around, Wilson."

Wilson quietly closed the door behind him, and House finally allowed his emotions to take over. Everything seemed to come crashing over him at once...his guilt over Amber, his anger over Stacy, his father...everything.

Anthony stirred awake when he heard the ragged sounds coming from above him, and he opened his eyes to see House leaning on the arm of the couch, his fingers rubbing over his eyes. He stretched out an arm to wrap around House's waist, startling the older man.

"Sorry." He muttered. "Didn't mean to wake you up."

"No big." Anthony lightly caressed House's waist with his thumb. "What's going on?"

"Wilson stopped by, we got to talking, and...this happened." House gestured to his own face, and Anthony could see the streaks and the red rimming the shining blue eyes.

"Must have been some talk." Anthony pushed himself to a sitting position, moving so he faced House, stroking his cheek.

"Yeah." House avoided Anthony's probing green eyes, already feeling he'd shown too much of himself. He chewed the inside of his lip thoughtfully, debating with himself how much to share with Anthony. Finally he wrapped an arm around Anthony, roughly pulling him close, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Anthony shifted, wrapping his arms around House's waist and laying his head on his shoulder, simply waiting. He already knew that if he waited long enough, something would come out.

House huffed impatiently, finally speaking. "I...unintentionally killed Wilson's girlfriend, and he never really forgave me for it. Can't say I blame him, either."

A bit of fear stabbed at Anthony's heart as he encouraged House to continue. House finally told the whole story, from when he started drinking that night right up to Wilson's leaving PPTH. Anthony let him go, knowing he might not ever get another chance to hear House open up so fully.

It ended with House stretched out on the couch, his left leg extended, his right foot touching the floor, with Anthony laying on his chest, arms wrapped around each other. "I thought I was never going to see him again." House spoke softly. "I didn't have anyone."

"I can't even imagine."

They were silent for a moment before House broke it once more. "I don't want to be alone."

Anthony hugged him a little tighter. "Who the hell does?"

"I thought I did. Seemed like I always managed okay." House took a deep, ragged breath. "Guess I was wrong."

"It happens."

House shifted slightly so that he faced Anthony, pulling him in for a long, heartfelt kiss. He broke away, his bright blue eyes boring into Anthony's skull. The words were right there, right on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason House couldn't get them to come out. "I...I..."

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything." Anthony pressed one more kiss to House's lips before pushing himself off him and getting off the couch. He offered a hand to House. "Think I'll go to bed. Coming with?"

House nodded as he took the hand Anthony extended, emotionally wrung out. As he pulled himself up from the couch, he pulled Anthony close to him, wrapping his arms around the younger man and tenderly kissing his cheek. "Don't leave me alone, Tony." He whispered in Anthony's ear.

"I don't plan on it, Greg." Anthony responded in kind, stroking the back of House's head.

House closed his eyes, drawing in a ragged breath, holding Anthony tighter to him before finally releasing him. He limped away in the direction of the hallway, Anthony close behind him.

They settled into bed, House curling against Anthony, much like the first night they had spent together. House placed a gentle kiss on the back of Anthony's neck, listening as the younger man's breathing evened out.

"Goddammit, Tony." House whispered softly. "I _do_ love you."

Anthony merely smiled a little and squeezed House's hand. "I love you too, Greg. Now go to sleep."

"'Kay." The older man murmured, getting as close as he could to Anthony. "Think maybe I'll take that key after all."

"We'll talk about it in the morning, hon." Anthony answered sleepily.

House slowly smiled as he closed his eyes. Never had one little word sounded so sweet to him. He just hoped he could keep the feeling going. Suddenly it didn't seem like such an impossible task.

# # #

Anthony awoke the next morning with House still firmly wrapped around him, his warm breath hitting the back of his neck. It seemed he had finally settled in and gotten some decent sleep. He breathed a sigh of relief and shifted slightly, not quite ready to leave the warmth of the bed and House's arms just yet.

He felt soft lips on the back of his neck and a hand moving around the hem of his t-shirt. Anthony rolled over so he was on his back, and was greeted by a pair of bloodshot, but still stunning, blue eyes.

"Morning." Anthony smirked as he stroked House's forehead.

"That it is." House draped himself across Anthony, laying little kisses along his slightly scruffy jaw and slipping his hand under Anthony's t-shirt.

Anthony put one arm behind his head, the other drifting under House's t-shirt, spreading his fingers out along the small of his back. It evoked a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl from the older man as he captured Anthony's lips, slipping his tongue into his mouth for a long, slow, sweet kiss.

"Mmm..." Anthony moved a hand to the back of House's head, returning with some tongue of his own before breaking away to look up at him. "So...are you okay?"

House lightly stroked Anthony's forehead, a somber expression on his face. "No...I don't think I'll ever be 'okay'." He bent down for a brief kiss. "It's better, though, I guess."

"Good." Anthony closed his eyes as House began his ministrations anew, working his way back down Anthony's throat, ending with a brief kiss in the spot between his collarbones.

"Yeah." House murmured, moving his hand further up Anthony's stomach to his chest. "Be better when you get rid of this damn shirt."

Anthony chuckled softly, quickly removing the shirt and tossing it to the floor. House grinned almost wolfishly, awkwardly straddling Anthony and intertwining his fingers with Anthony's over his head, leaning down for another languorous kiss.

He released Anthony's hands, sliding them down his arms as he worked his way back down, leaving a moist trail down his neck before starting at one side of his collarbone, kissing him from the end of the bone out to the shoulder.

His mouth and hands continued to wander over Anthony, almost as if he were determined to taste and feel every inch of skin. It was an intense experience, unlike anything he'd ever felt, and he never wanted this to end. Anthony grabbed the hem of House's shirt, tugging until House twisted out of it, revealing the well-built shoulders and arms that Anthony suddenly couldn't get enough of.

House untied Anthony's pants, tugging at them until he pulled them mostly off Anthony's body, with Anthony kicking them off the rest of the way. He moved so that he lay beside Anthony, nudging him so that he rolled to his side, stroking him as he kissed the back of his neck, his shoulder, any skin he could reach.

"Be right back." House whispered roughly, leaving Anthony just as he started to ride the edge. He opened the drawer on his bedside table, fumbling until he found the small foil packet. House quickly stripped off his pants, wrapping himself before turning back to Anthony. "Roll over." He growled in Anthony's ear.

Anthony rolled over to his stomach, leaning back slightly on his knees and spreading himself before House. A little flutter went through House as he leaned over the younger man, bracing his hands on either side of him, pressing a series of kisses over his shoulders and back, giving special attention to the tattoo on his right shoulder.

He slowly entered Anthony, pushing him forward onto his stomach. Anthony grunted in response.

"Too much?" House murmured.

"Fine." Anthony answered, a little breathless. "Keep going."

House pushed on, and they soon found an easy rhythm, pausing to change position when things proved too much for House's leg to handle. He wrapped an arm around Anthony, reaching around to stroke him while leaving a flurry of kisses on the back of his neck.

"Greg..." Anthony tensed and released, shaking in House's grip. House followed, pressing into Anthony with a loud groan, gripping the younger man to him, finally relaxing with a loud sigh.

"Damn." House rumbled as he pulled out, disposing of the condom and coming back to press against Anthony. "Now I need a nap. Getting too old for much more of this."

"You're not old." Anthony murmured.

"Whatever." House kissed Anthony's neck, attempting to pull the covers over them.

"It's true." Anthony squeezed House's hand, pressing as close as he could to him. "Doesn't matter to me anyway."

"Good to know." House stretched his leg out, attempting to alleviate the small cramp and failing. "Dammit."

He rolled away, pushing himself to a sitting position to pop open one of his prescription bottles, dry swallowing a couple. House rubbed his thigh while he waited for the meds to kick in.

"Everything okay?" Anthony rolled over, lifting himself on his elbows.

"Just a cramp. Won't be a minute."

"Okay." Anthony regarded him skeptically. "If you need anything, just holler, okay?"

House smiled slightly despite the throbbing pain in his leg. "Anything, huh? Imagine the possibilities."

"You know what I mean." Anthony chuckled.

"Yeah, I do." House swung his legs back into bed, coming to rest next to Anthony. "Thanks...you know. For everything. You're one hell of a guy."

"High praise coming from you."

"Damn straight." House frowned slightly as he wrapped himself around Anthony. "Wait...that didn't come out right..."

"I get it. No worries." Anthony laughed as he pressed against House. "Clearly you need some more sleep. You're getting silly."

"Mm-hm." House tugged the covers over them and brought himself as close to Anthony as he could. "Got all day, and nothing to do but you."

Anthony snorted. This was one hell of a way to spend a Sunday, and he couldn't speak for House, but he planned on taking full advantage of it.

# # #

**Now I leave it to you. Read and review. :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**A little slow on the updates, I know. Now it's the weekend and I should be able to knock out a couple. As usual, David Shore owns the House crew, not me.**

# # #

It was late on Sunday afternoon when House reluctantly drove Anthony back to his apartment. They had spent the day alternately napping, lounging, and thoroughly enjoying each other, and House hated to let it end.

He pulled up in front of Anthony's building, drumming his long fingers on the steering wheel as Anthony opened the door and stepped out, pulling his bag from the back seat. Despite his earlier declarations of love, House was still edgy about this growing relationship.

"Hey." Anthony's voice snapped him from his reverie as the younger man poked his head back inside the car. "See you around?"

House nodded. "Yeah. Don't know what my week looks like yet, but...yeah."

Anthony leaned further into the car, placing a hand on the older man's cheek and pulling him to press a kiss to his lips. House took the action further, wrapping a hand around Anthony's neck and deepening the kiss. He could hear Anthony laughing softly through the kiss, and House pulled away with a glare.

"What's so funny?"

"This." Anthony climbed into the car and closed the door behind him. "You. Me. Us. All of it."

"I'm not following." House sounded vaguely hurt.

Anthony reached out and gently took House's hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb. "Just the _speed_ of it. I guess I'm not used to the whole whirlwind romance thing."

House's mouth quirked slightly in amusement. "My last girlfriend moved in with me a week after our first date."

"So clearly you're cool with this." Anthony's eyes crinkled in equal amusement.

House shrugged. "I guess when I run across a good thing..." He looked Anthony dead in the eye. "I don't want to let it go."

Anthony squeezed House's hand. "Me either." He captured House's lips in another soft kiss. "If your week gets crazy...you know, that's why you have the key."

House nodded, planting one more kiss on Anthony before pushing him away. "God, Tony, get out of here. You'll never get anywhere at this rate."

Anthony rolled his eyes and smirked, climbing out of the car and closing the door. He watched House pull away, already feeling a small pang of...something. Not quite loneliness, but something.

He shook his head and entered the building, easily taking the steps two at a time to his apartment. The phone was ringing as he unlocked the door, and he hurried to answer it, noting the flashing light on the answering machine.

"Hello?"

"Tony!" Simon practically screamed into the phone. "Where the hell have you been all weekend?!"

Anthony grinned as he moved around the apartment, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his cheek. "Busy."

"Mm-hm. Busy _getting_ busy, I'd imagine." Simon rolled his eyes on the other end of the phone. "And how is the good doctor?"

"Well...I just left his place. You tell me." Anthony unpacked his bag, waiting for Simon's inevitable reaction.

"Boy, you don't waste any time, do you?" Simon laughed heartily.

Anthony sat down on the bed, thinking back to House's words in the car. "Hey, when you've got a good thing..."

"This is more than a 'thing', isn't it?" Simon interrupted. He hadn't seen Anthony act this way over a guy in a very long time, excluding Drew, and Simon didn't count him.

Anthony laid back on the bed, letting his long legs dangle over the side. "Yeah. The 'L' word's already been...tossed around."

"From you or him?"

"Both."

Simon groaned on the other end of the phone. "It's worse than I thought."

"Oh, it gets better." Anthony decided to go for broke. "I gave him a key."

"No you didn't!" Anthony had to hold the phone away from his ear. "Are you out of your damn mind?!"

"Yes. Yes, I am." He let out a short sigh as he played with a string on his bedspread. "I know it sounds crazy, but we just...work. I don't know how else to explain it."

"Well..." Simon sounded doubtful. "Just don't go buying jewelry or anything just yet."

"He doesn't wear jewelry." Anthony chuckled. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

"You know damn well what I mean." Simon scolded. "Just...you know. Don't rush things. Any more than you already have, anyway."

Anthony sighed. Simon had a point, and he knew it. His weekend with House had been one giant rush, heady and fantastic on so many levels. Now that he had a little time away...hell, he didn't regret a thing. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You're still picking me up tomorrow, right?"

"Yep." Simon agreed, knowing the conversation was over. "Nine o'clock, right?"

"Right." Anthony had his neuro follow-up, and he was antsy to get the all clear. Hanging out at home was killing him with boredom.

"You'd better take it easy tonight." Simon teased. "Because I know damn well you didn't this weekend."

"Well...I _did_ spend a lot of it in bed..." Anthony teased in return. "I even had a medical professional on call."

Simon simply groaned. "TMI, honey. I'll see you in the morning."

"Bye." Anthony was laughing as he hung up the phone. He lived to yank Simon's chain. God knew it was easy enough to do.

He started puttering around the apartment, winding down after his rather wild weekend with House. It had been fun, for the most part, but Anthony was worn out. Finally he settled in on the couch with his book after setting up his I Pod and speakers.

The music filled the room, and he soon found himself absorbed in his book, barely aware of the time passing. He started to feel his eyes drift closed, reluctant to put down his book, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep, visions of blue eyes, soft lips, and rough hands drifting through his mind.

# # #

House spent the evening alternating between finishing off Thai leftovers, surfing through his TiVo, and sitting at his piano. He felt unsettled, and the place seemed oddly empty without Anthony. It was funny how quickly one got used to having another human being around, after living alone for so many years.

He smirked to himself as he polished off the last of the Pad Thai, running over the weekend in his mind. It wasn't just the sex that kept drawing him in to Anthony, although that would have almost been enough to keep the boy around. No, House had begun to bond with Anthony on a much deeper level.

It was thrilling, exhilarating, scary. Mostly scary. He tried to remember the last time he let himself get so close to another person, and couldn't. What he had with Wilson was completely different than what was beginning with Anthony, and even though he had loved Stacy deeply, he had never developed the level of trust and intimacy that he was beginning to allow with Anthony.

This was huge, and it hit House like a ton of bricks. Obviously Anthony felt something similar, even as he had tried to be so casual about giving House that key. House pulled it out of his pocket, turning it over in his hand, examining it closely. How many times had Drew used this very key to let himself in over the years, smooth talking his way into Anthony's heart and bed? House didn't want to think about that.

He huffed in irritation and shoved the key back in his pocket. Damned if he was going over there tonight. Anthony already had one stalker. He definitely didn't need another one. On the other hand...House shook his head to clear the thought. He couldn't believe he was even considering the idea.

House pushed himself off the couch and limped back over to the piano, grinning a little to himself as he slid onto the bench. Thanks to Anthony, he'd never be able to look at the thing quite the same way again. Christ, House could still feel Anthony's hands smoothing over him, his lips on his skin, and he could still feel the muscle flexing under his hands as...

This was getting ridiculous. House closed the cover over the keys, scrubbing his hands over his head. Was there nothing around here that _didn't _somehow remind House of him? He finally heaved himself off the bench and started taking care of the containers that were scattered around the living room in an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts.

The key seemed to burn a hole in his pocket as he limped heavily around the apartment. So much for distractions. He dug the key out of his pocket again, feeling the now warm metal in his hand.

"To hell with it." House muttered to the empty room, digging out his key ring and adding Anthony's key to it. Almost automatically, he packed up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he grabbed his helmet and jacket before heading out the door.

His boldness left him almost as soon as he climbed on the bike and buckled his helmet. The doubts that he had managed to put aside crept up on him once again as he started the bike and took off down the street.

He rode around for a good hour, alternately doubting himself and chiding himself for his lack of courage. Surely it couldn't be this damned difficult. Anthony had given him the key. Obviously he intended House to use it.

But people often tossed out casual statements that they didn't really mean. It was just human nature. Perhaps now that Anthony had some time to cool off, he would feel differently. The thought filled House with dread as he pulled up in front of Anthony's building, still doubting his impulsive move.

He slowly dismounted the bike, rubbing his thigh reflexively. Stress always made the pain worse, and his leg was damn near killing him right now. What was that thing the pain management guy had tried to teach him? He hadn't been particularly receptive then, but House finally managed to recall it, a simple breathing exercise. He pulled in a few deep breaths as he leaned on the seat of his motorcycle, and damned if things didn't seem to abate, making the pain tolerable, if nothing else.

House limped slowly up the steps and into the building, taking his time climbing the short flight of stairs that led to Anthony's apartment, his key ring clutched in his hand. He fumbled with it as he found the key, briefly wondering what would happen if it didn't work.

It slipped easily into the lock, and opened with a click. He quietly opened the door, immediately spotting Anthony.

He was stretched out along his couch, one arm hanging over so that it nearly touched the floor, the other clutching a book to his chest. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose, in danger of falling off. The peaceful scene sent a small flutter through House's chest as he leaned on his cane near the door, simply watching the younger man sleep.

House closed the door behind him and set his backpack on the floor, making his way across the small living room to the coffee table. He sat down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, studying Anthony. The other man snorted in his sleep and shifted to his side, and House quickly caught the book as it slid out from under his hand.

Anthony awoke with a start, those bright green eyes flicking open, blinking furiously as he tried to focus. Unless he was still dreaming...there was House right in front of him, seated on the coffee table, intense blue eyes staring him down, a serious expression on his face.

The scent of House's jacket drifted to where Anthony lay on the couch. If this was a dream, it was incredibly vivid. Finally he was oriented to his surroundings, and he pushed himself to a sitting position, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes, meeting House's somber expression with a small smile.

House felt awkward, feeling the need to explain himself. "I...just thought I'd try the key. You know, to make sure it worked."

"Right." Anthony rose from the couch, dropping a kiss on top of House's head. "I wouldn't have given that key to you if I hadn't meant you to use it." He squeezed the older man's shoulder as he padded into the kitchen, returning with a pair of beers and handing one to House. "I assume you plan on staying."

House accepted the beer, taking a quick swig before setting it on the coffee table. "Didn't really have a plan."

Anthony chuckled, nodding his head toward the backpack near the door as he sat down on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "So I suppose that thing is empty?"

"Contingency plan." House glanced at Anthony to gauge his reaction. Anthony merely grinned and shook his head.

"Well, you're here now." Anthony nudged at House's ribs with his foot. "Might as well stay."

House's rough face relaxed into something resembling a smile. "Might as well." He shrugged out of his jacket and toed off his shoes, pushing himself off the table and plopping himself on the couch next to Anthony.

Anthony could feel House's eyes on him, and he could almost hear the wheels turning in House's head. He gently placed a hand on the inside of House's knee, causing the older man to jump.

"I thought so." Anthony's eyes crinkled in amusement at House's reaction.

"What?" House fixed Anthony with a scowl.

"I can almost hear you overanalyzing." Anthony lightly stroked House's knee with his thumb.

House's mouth twisted in a thoughtful expression, drumming his fingers alongside his right thing. "I've never had an open relationship with a guy. It just feels...different."

Anthony raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was starting to get used to House's out of the blue confessions, but this eclipsed everything he had heard so far. "Really?"

"Really." House shifted so that he faced Anthony, extending his arm down the back of the couch. "I had...flings, I guess you could call them. All through college, med school. I guess I never had the balls to be open about it. Not like you."

"It's not about having balls, Greg." Anthony sighed and moved closer, lightly stroking House's cheek. "It's more about...being true to yourself, and accepting yourself, and to hell with what anyone else thinks." His voice went soft as House finally looked him in the eye. "Maybe you're more willing to do that now than you were then."

"Maybe." House's voice was barely above a whisper. "I just know...I like what we have."

"Me too." Anthony's hand moved down to wrap around House's neck, stroking tenderly.

"And...I don't want it to end."

"Likewise..." Anthony felt something clutch at his chest, not sure what was coming next.

"I guess that's it, then, isn't it?" House's wheels continued to turn, the whole thought process reflected in his brilliant blue eyes.

Anthony was baffled. "What's it?"

"Maybe it really is that simple." House frowned, still deep in thought. "Huh."

"Yep. Sometimes it really is that simple." Anthony leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss to House's lips. "Sometimes all you have to do is...let it happen."

"Simple...but not easy." House murmured. "It shouldn't be so damned difficult."

"Quit getting so hung up on the way things _should_ be." Anthony told him firmly as he pulled House to him.

_If only it were that easy_, House thought to himself as he wrapped his arms around Anthony, losing himself in the scent of his skin and the warmth of his embrace. "I'm kind of tired. Think I'll go to bed."

Anthony sighed to himself. In House-speak, the confession session was over for tonight. "Sounds good." He started to rise, but with over six feet of House attached to him, it proved more than a little difficult. "You realize you're going to have to let go, right? At least long enough to get _to_ the bed."

House huffed in mock disgust. "If you insist." He unwrapped himself from around Anthony and pushed himself to his feet, striding over to pick up the backpack that still lay next to the door. Anthony could see that House was still struggling internally, and it sent up just a flicker of doubt inside Anthony as well. He didn't want House to bolt just as things were looking so promising.

He decided to continue as if it were just another night, changing into his sleep clothes and climbing into bed. If House decided to join him, fine. Otherwise...well, he'd deal with that if it happened.

Anthony heard the apartment door open and close, and his heart sank. He turned over on his side, cursing himself for rushing things with House. He should have known better, really. At least he and House had a weekend to remember. His eyes drifted closed, attempting to push House out of his thoughts.

He was just drifting off when he thought he heard the door open and close again, and he barely dared to hope that House had returned. Anthony heard the already familiar sounds of House limping heavily around the hallway and the bathroom, grumbling to himself.

Finally Anthony felt the mattress dip as House climbed into bed, and he breathed a small sigh of relief as he felt House's arm snake around him, his body pressing against his.

"Hey you." Anthony murmured. "I thought you left."

"Left my helmet outside." House spoke sleepily.

Anthony turned over to his other side, all but burying himself in House's warmth. House chuckled and pulled the younger man closer to him. "Jesus, boy, I wasn't going anywhere."

"I knew that."

"Like hell you did." House snorted. "And I thought I was the insecure one."

"You are." Anthony's muffled voice carried to him. "I just thought maybe...maybe I pushed you into things too fast."

House rolled onto his back, taking Anthony with him. "First of all...nobody pushes me into _anything_. Second of all...I already told you about Stacy. Fast...has its place."

"Actually..." Anthony was suddenly intrigued. "No, you _didn't_ tell me about Stacy."

"Some other time, boy." House's voice went soft as he turned back on his side, facing Anthony once again. Right now, he was just enjoying the weight and warmth of Anthony against him. He had briefly considered leaving, but the boy didn't need to know that. Besides, if he'd been foolish enough to go back home, he would have missed this. That, House decided, would have been _damn_ foolish on his part.

# # #

**Now that I've finally done my part, you can do yours. Read and review. :) (And many thanks to those of you that have added this story to their alerts. That's very cool as well.)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Insert my usual disclaimers here. The O/Cs are mine, but I don't own anything from House.**

# # #

The alarm pulled Anthony from his sleep far sooner than he was ready for. He groaned and reached out to smack the alarm into silence, flopping back against the pillows briefly before he started to drag himself out of bed.

A long arm curled around his waist and pulled him back in. "Too early."

Anthony chuckled, letting House pull him in close. "Couldn't agree more."

"So stay." House pressed a kiss to Anthony's forehead. "Like you've got anywhere to be."

"Mmm...wish I could." Anthony wrapped an arm around House's waist. "Got a follow-up appointment this morning. Besides...I can't make coffee if you've got me trapped here."

"Coffee or you..." House pulled back a little, one arm pillowed under his head and the other draped over Anthony. "Tough call."

Anthony smiled and drifted his hand along the small of House's back. "I'll make it up to you later..."

House jumped slightly at the touch. "Keep that up and you'll have to make it up to me _now_."

Anthony quickly rolled away from House and was out of the bed with nearly cat-like grace. "Got to catch me first."

"Nice." House muttered as he rolled over onto his back. "Way to screw with the cripple."

"Not falling for it." Anthony's voice faded away as he left the bedroom and padded into the kitchen to start coffee. House listened as Anthony started the coffeemaker and came back down the hall into the bathroom. The shower started up, and an image of the hot water washing over Anthony's body flashed through House's mind.

He immediately cut off the thought, groaning as he turned over and pulled the covers over him. The scent that wafted up did nothing to quell his thoughts, and House was feeling more and more like a hormonal teenager. It was ridiculous, illogical. He shouldn't be feeling this way, and yet...it _did_ feel awfully damn good.

Anthony wandered back into the bedroom, his signature crisp scent following him as he rounded the end of the bed to pick up his watch from the nightstand. He was wearing a charcoal gray thermal henley shirt and dark wash jeans, the close fitting shirt highlighting the contours of his body as he worked the wristband of the watch.

House let out a soft wolf whistle, catching Anthony's attention. The younger man's lips quirked in amusement as he climbed onto the bed, leaning over House and whispering in his ear, "Is that your way of telling me I look good?"

"You could say that." House pulled Anthony down to him by the nape of his neck, roughly kissing him. "How long before you have to leave?"

"About...twenty minutes or so."

"That's enough time." House pulled Anthony further so that he landed on House, his hands immediately slipping under his shirt and spreading out over his back. He pressed a kiss to his jaw near his ear before moving down the side of his neck, taking in his crisp, clean scent as he did so. "Damn...you look good _and_ smell good."

"It's that shower thing. Used soap and everything." Anthony couldn't resist the little crack, even as House's lips and hands roamed over him.

"Smartass." House growled as he shoved Anthony's shirt over his head and started working at his belt buckle. Anthony leaned back slightly so he straddled House, running his hands under House's t-shirt along his stomach and up to his chest. House twitched and groaned softly at the unexpected touch. "You're distracting me."

"Good." Anthony bent over House, pushing the t-shirt up House's body and over his head. He left a series of kisses along his collarbone, finding the spot that nearly sent House through the roof with pleasure.

House's hand moved to the back of Anthony's head as the younger man continued downward, brushing his thumbs across his nipples as his hands smoothed down the sides of his stomach, kissing him all the way down to the waist of his sleep pants. He untied them, pulling them down just enough to press a small kiss above his center, and the older man arched upward with a soft moan.

He briefly continued his tease, feeling House squirm under him, making those little noises of pleasure Anthony loved to hear. House wrapped a leg around Anthony, the various muscles flexing in response to Anthony's ministrations, and Anthony tugged at House's pants enough to expose him before taking him in his mouth.

House roughly stroked the back of Anthony's head with both hands, nearly coming undone at the feel of Anthony's mouth and hands on him, the pressure building until he released with a loud sigh, relaxing his leg and running his foot over the back of Anthony's leg.

He quickly recovered as Anthony moved up his body and pressed a long, tender kiss to his lips, slipping in some tongue as he did so. It was oddly disconcerting to taste himself on the other man's tongue, but he shoved the thought aside as he pushed Anthony's jeans off his body.

House broke away from Anthony's mouth to brush his lips down his throat, hearing the younger man's breath catch as he found the soft spot between his throat and collarbone. He placed his hands on Anthony's hips, encouraging him to move further upward so that he hovered over House.

Anthony managed to shake one leg loose from his jeans, his heart thudding in his chest as he lightly gripped the headboard. House pulled him closer, his hands somewhere between his lower back and his backside, lightly caressing him as he took Anthony fully in his mouth, his lips brushing against the hair that surrounded his center.

Anthony's reaction was almost immediate. He gripped the headboard tighter, a shaky groan escaping him, born of equal parts surprise and delight. "Shit, Greg..."

The words seemed to encourage House further, and he easily increased his speed, bringing Anthony closer and closer to that edge, when Anthony heard the apartment door open.

_Shit...Simon._ Anthony felt a bit of panic grip him, hoping like hell Simon wouldn't come wandering down the hallway. Of all the times to leave the bedroom door open. He felt House flick at him with his tongue, and it was the final push Anthony needed. He bit back a cry, tightly gripping the headboard as he went over, relaxing briefly before moving to collapse on the bed.

"Better hurry up and get dressed." House glanced over at Anthony with a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. "Simon's here."

Anthony was speechless, but not completely surprised at House's statement. Of course House had known. He burst out laughing, leaning over to give House a quick kiss. "You're a dog, you know that?"

"Tony!" Simon's voice carried down the hall. "I know you're in there. Don't make me come down there!"

House chuckled as he pulled his own pants back over him. "It's your own damn fault. If you weren't so attractive, I wouldn't have jumped you."

"Your logic is irrefutable." Anthony quickly finished dressing, pulling the shirt that had started the whole thing back over his head. "Be right there!" He called out to Simon as he leaned over for one more kiss for House. "I'll deal with you later."

"Promise?" House fixed him with that wicked grin again.

"With all my...heart." Anthony teased back. "See you later."

"Bye." House pulled the covers back over him, briefly closing his eyes as he listened to Anthony and Simon's verbal exchange as Anthony finished getting himself ready. The boy was going to be in for a hell of a lot of teasing from his friend, but damn, had it ever been worth it. Simon's unexpected arrival had added a new wrinkle to the proceedings, an extra thrill.

House sobered briefly at the meaning behind that. It had been a prevalent theme in his relationships with men. Hell, he couldn't even call them relationships, more like flings, one night stands. There had always been the extra element of the possibility of getting busted in his previous dealings with men, and it had always heightened the excitement for him.

That had been a different time, a different place. House knew he didn't have to hide anymore. Almost everyone that was close to him knew about his relationship with Anthony.

Almost everyone. He still hadn't talked to his mother, and House doubted that he would anytime soon. Maybe...depending on how things went. He was reluctant to say anything until he had some idea of where things were going with Anthony.

Could he and Anthony go the distance? House still had trouble envisioning that possibility, but then again, he had trouble envisioning that with anyone.

He huffed in irritation and pushed himself out of bed, limping heavily toward the kitchen and the coffeemaker. After pouring himself a mug, he made his way over to the door where he had dumped his backpack last night, digging the travel mug out of the backpack. As he filled the travel mug, House decided that the long term possibilities didn't matter right now. Things were good right now, and that was all that mattered. He'd take it for as long as it lasted. If it lasted for years, all the better.

# # #

Simon kept giving Anthony sideways glances as he drove, observing the slight grin and thoughtful expression that crossed his handsome features as he looked out the car window.

"Hey, loverboy." Simon teased gently. "You still here?"

Anthony turned slowly to meet Simon's amused face. "Yeah, still here. Busy morning, you know."

Simon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know." He sighed almost imperceptibly. "Guess I'd better start calling ahead from now on."

"Maybe." Anthony glanced over at Simon with a concerned frown. "Are you okay?"

Simon parked the car and shut off the ignition. "Of course I am. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know." Anthony shrugged as he climbed out of the car. "You're acting kind of funny, that's all. If I didn't know better..."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Tony." Simon huffed. "I'm not jealous."

"Didn't say you were." Anthony grinned slightly. "Although I think you just did."

"Tony..." Simon caught Anthony by the shoulder just before they entered the hospital. Anthony turned to face his oldest friend. "I'm not jealous...exactly." Simon sighed, not sure how to put what he wanted to say next. "We had our chance, and I know that. I'm beyond proud to claim you as my friend. Hell, you've become my best friend. I wouldn't trade any of that for the world." He pulled Anthony into a close embrace, and he swore he could still smell a little of House on him. "Doesn't mean I don't wish things had turned out a little differently."

Anthony hugged him back, never quite forgetting the feel of Simon in his arms. "You're always honest with me...eventually. I do appreciate that." He pulled back to look Simon in the eye. "I'll always love you, you know that. That's not going to change. Hell, I need someone to help keep my feet on the ground, right?"

"Right." Simon released Anthony, stepping back a little. "I _am_ happy for you, just so you know."

"Good to know." Anthony grinned as they stepped through the double doors into the lobby. "So you're not upset about...you know."

"Honey, please." Simon dismissed Anthony's statement with a flick of his hand. "I was bound to walk in on you two sooner or later. I'm just surprised it hasn't happened before now. Besides...how can I be upset at someone who puts that kind of smile on my friend's face?"

Anthony chuckled as they stepped onto the elevator and rode up to the floor that housed neurology. He signed in and the two men sat in the waiting area, Anthony immediately getting lost in the book that he pulled out of his messenger bag.

Simon watched him, observing Anthony's changing facial expressions as he delved deeper into his book, his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. Anthony had always been a good looking man, but he seemed to have become more so over the years, improving like a fine wine. It didn't seem fair that some other guy should come along and take advantage of that, and that's exactly what both Drew and House had done.

His reaction to House's presence surprised him. Simon genuinely liked the older doctor, ever since he had come rushing to Anthony's rescue after the assault. As things had clearly intensified between he and Anthony, though, the sadder Simon became. Not just because House was cutting into their time together, but because it was clear that there was no longer any hope of being any more than friends with Anthony.

If he had to be completely honest with himself, Simon wasn't sure if he was okay with that idea or not. He had meant it when he said he was happy for Anthony. He just wished he was happier with simply being friends with Anthony.

"Simon?" Anthony's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "I'm going in. I'll be right back."

He fixed Anthony with a warm smile. "I'll be here."

Anthony smiled back, clasping Simon on the shoulder before entering the exam area with the medical assistant. Even in casual dress, Anthony always seemed to know how to highlight his best...features. He smirked a little to himself as he watched Anthony go, suspecting that House felt much the same way. No wonder he had walked in on their little lovefest this morning.

He sighed and settled back into his seat, idly flipping through the magazine as he waited. As long as House treated his friend right, none of them really had anything to worry about. Simon decided right then that his friendship with Anthony was far more important than any passing jealousy over House.

# # #

Anthony followed the medical assistant back to the exam room, still puzzling over Simon's behavior. Never in a million years did he think that Simon would be jealous of House. He was even more surprised to find out that he was still carrying a small torch for Anthony, although he was glad Simon had sort of come out and admitted it.

"The doctor will be right with you." The assistant flashed Anthony a warm smile as she set down the chart and left the room.

He nodded and sat on the exam table, briefly lost in thought. The opening door snapped him out of his thoughts, and he was pleased to see Doctor Michaels enter the room.

She was apparently pleased to see Anthony as well, her eyes lighting up upon seeing him on the table. "Mister Taylor! So nice to see you again."

Anthony laughed softly as he took the hand she extended. "Mister Taylor was my father. I'm good with Tony."

"Tony it is, then." Michaels picked up the chart and started making notes. "Let's check you over. Follow my finger."

Anthony easily tracked her movements, and Michaels nodded with satisfaction. "Any double vision, headaches, dizziness, nausea?"

"No, no, no, and no." Anthony cheerfully responded. He tilted his head in curiosity. "So...how's Doctor Wilson?"

Michaels froze briefly, her pen poised over the chart. "Fine...I suppose." Finally she connected the dots. "Oh! You're House's..."

"Yes." Anthony broke out in a grin. "So...?"

Michaels' face broke into a barely suppressed smile. "He's good. We had a lovely weekend. You?"

"Couldn't be better." Anthony's hands spread out in an expansive gesture. "So what's the word?"

"I think it's safe to give you the all clear." Michaels handed the paperwork to Anthony. "Keep following up with your regular doctor, and if anything changes, don't hesitate to get medical assistance. Although..." She gave him a conspiratorial smile. "...I suspect that's not going to be a problem."

"I hope not." Anthony took the paperwork, extending a hand to Michaels. "Thank you. See you around." He hopped down from the table, pausing just before he opened the door. "We should get together. You know, the four of us."

"Like...a double date?" Michaels looked amused. "That...could be fun."

"That's kind of what I thought." Anthony quickly scribbled down his number on a nearby prescription pad. "Call me. We'll figure something out."

"I will." Michaels ripped the paper off the pad and tucked it into her lab coat. "Take care, Tony."

Anthony grinned to himself as he left. This could be fun, if he could get House to agree to it. He wasn't sure how he would feel about getting together with another couple, especially his best friend and his new girlfriend.

He dropped off his paperwork at the front desk and pushed through the door to the waiting room, where Simon was still reading his magazine. He rose when he saw Anthony approach.

"So...what's the word?"

"All clear." Anthony picked up his bag and slung it across his chest. "Guess it's back to the real world tomorrow."

"Good to hear." Simon fell into step with Anthony as they left the office. "You want to grab some breakfast?"

"Hell yes." Anthony responded. "I'm starving."

Simon snorted and broke into a wide grin. "I'll bet you are."

Anthony lightly punched his friend in the arm. "Not just because of _that_. I had hardly any time this morning."

Simon threw back his head and howled in laughter. "Quit digging that hole, boy. You know I'll be only to happy to give you a shovel."

Anthony shook his head, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. "Just for that, you're buying."

"Fine by me." Simon flung an arm around Anthony's shoulders. "It's worth it just to see that look on your face."

The two men chuckled as they crossed the lobby, and Anthony spotted a tall, lean figure limping through the double doors. It could only be House, and Anthony held his breath, not sure how House would greet him publicly.

House removed his sunglasses, tucking them in his jacket pocket. He spotted Anthony and Simon as they moved through the lobby, and he made sure to pass close by Anthony, making eye contact.

He grasped Anthony's fingers, stopping as their shoulders touched. "Hey." He murmured in the younger man's ear. "How'd it go?"

"All good." Anthony decided to let House set the tone of their public interaction, not wanting to do anything to make him uncomfortable.

"Good." House's face lit up in a brief smile, crinkling his blue eyes. "So it's back to pawing strangers for profit for you, huh?"

"Yep, back to work." Anthony laughed at House's assessment of his work. "Speaking of..."

"Yeah, yeah. I should go." House impulsively turned and planted a small kiss on Anthony's cheek. "Lives to save, administrators to avoid. The usual." He released Anthony's fingers. "See you later."

"Bye." Anthony was stunned by House's sudden action. It seemed so...not-House-like. He didn't know what to think.

Simon started laughing beside him. "Oh, yeah, this is _way_ more than just a thing."

"Hush, you." Anthony shoved him affectionately as they left the hospital. "You still owe me breakfast."

# # #

House could hear the laughter behind him as he stepped onto the elevator that would take him to his office. He had openly shown affection, in public, no less. That alone was strange enough for him, but the fact that it was towards a guy made it easily twice as strange.

Anthony was hardly just any guy, though. House relaxed and leaned against the back of the elevator, the morning's events still going through his mind. He shook his head, amused by the whole thing. If things kept going the way they were, he might actually experience what it was like to be truly happy with someone. That hadn't happened to him since his early days with Stacy. It was a scary thought for someone who didn't take a lot of chances on the personal front. He had spent so many years sheltering himself from potential heartache that he hadn't realized that he had actually created a prison for himself. Thanks in part to Anthony, those prison walls seemed to be falling. All he had to do was...let it happen. Easy enough to say, but very difficult to do. He had to admit that it was slowly getting a little easier.

He chuckled to himself and thumped his cane on the floor of the elevator. Maybe it took the love of a good _man_ to get House to start opening his heart. It was unconventional, no question, but why should his approach to his personal life be any different that his approach to anything else? House, in all honesty, couldn't come up with a good reason why not. Right now, that was good enough for him.

# # #

**Please by so kind as to read and review. Thanks to those of you that continue to add this to your alerts. It's very gratifying. :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**I actually finished a chapter before the weekend. Yay me. :D Still don't own anything related to House, dammit.**

# # #

House stepped off the elevator on the fourth floor, an odd calm overtaking him as he made his way to his office. He briefly thought about dropping in on Wilson, but after their rather intense conversation Saturday night, now didn't seem like a good time.

He dropped his backpack on the chair and hung his jacket on the coat rack before pulling out the travel mug, taking a moment to enjoy the strong, sweet brew. The team was crowded around the conference room table, browsing through medical journals and chatting easily with each other.

Three heads turned as one as House poked his head through the door. "No case yet?"

Foreman shook his head. "Nope, nothing yet."

"Damn." It was looking like a boring day. "I'll be in the clinic."

Foreman quickly rose and caught up with House before he left his office. "Cuddy wants a meeting with us."

House's brow briefly crinkled in concern. "Really."

"Yeah. Probably to do with your hearing with the board."

House frowned before he pushed through the office door. He knew it was coming, but he was still nervous. If the board decided he wasn't fit to run diagnostics...he didn't know what he would do.

Foreman tilted his head, seeing the troubled look cross House's face. "I don't think you really have anything to worry about. It's just a formality."

"You don't know that." House spoke quietly. "This could be the end of the road for me."

Foreman knew that House would still be able to practice medicine. No one was pulling his license, after all. But if he wasn't running diagnostics, he wasn't sure House would be willing to do anything else, and with his reputation for being brilliant but difficult, he'd have a hard time working anywhere else.

House was an ass, no doubt. That didn't mean Foreman wanted anything bad to happen to the man. He was willing to do what he needed to do to ensure that House stayed on, and he knew that Cuddy would as well.

Foreman huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not going to be the end of the line. They're going to have to blow up the place to get you out of here."

House shook his head and started down the hall to the elevator. "You know where to find me."

Foreman felt a twinge of sadness as he watched House limp away, his shoulders slumped in something like defeat. The man had gone through so much, and if the little glimpses he'd seen were any indication, he was starting to find some happiness outside of the hospital as well. It would be a damn shame to have it all ripped away now.

He turned back toward the conference room, the wheels turning in his head. This had to work out. It just had to, for House's sake as well as for the whole department.

# # #

House signed in at the clinic desk, giving a brief nod to the nurses as he did so. He sighed and got started, working his way through the crowd of patients that filled the clinic that morning. It proved to be a decent distraction from his and Foreman's upcoming meeting with Cuddy, but eventually the clinic cleared out, and House took the opportunity to duck into an empty exam room, puffing out his cheeks as he laid back on an exam table.

The morning had taken a lot out of him, and the meeting with Cuddy took over the forefront of his mind. He wished he had even a little of Foreman's confidence right now. Damn, he never thought he'd say that. Foreman could be smug, arrogant, and a complete pain in his ass, but he was a damn good doctor, and obviously had kept the department from completely falling apart in his absence.

A knock at the door snapped House out of his thoughts, and he quickly sat up. "With a patient!"

"No you're not." The door opened to reveal Wilson.

House groaned and laid back down on the table. "What do you want?"

Wilson shrugged and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. "Figured I'd check in...see how things were going."

"Okay, I guess." House found a particularly interesting ceiling tile. "Got a meeting with Cuddy and Foreman later."

"I see." Wilson nodded. "Must be for the board hearing?"

"Jesus." House growled. "Is there anyone who _doesn't_ know about this thing?"

"Don't you know? It's the talk of the hospital."

"Pretty goddamn boring hospital."

"I suppose." Wilson tilted his head and looked at House. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Now quit bugging me." House suddenly sat up and slid off the table. "Free for lunch?"

"Sure." Their conversation from Saturday night still nagged Wilson's mind, but now was neither the time nor the place to bring that up. Instead he followed House out of the exam room, making a mental note to find a time to talk to him later on.

# # #

The two men proceeded through the cafeteria line, as if it was just another day for them. Wilson led them outside, taking advantage of the last bright blue fall days as they found a table far off in the corner of the patio. House thought it was unusual, but followed Wilson anyway.

They sat and started eating, falling into idle chat, House stealing fries from Wilson's plate. House got the feeling that Wilson was holding back something, but damned if he could figure out what it might have been.

Finally there was a lull in the conversation, and Wilson took advantage of the opening. "Look, about the other night..."

House's face developed a hard mask. "Rather not talk about it, thanks."

"Well then...I'll talk, and you pretend to listen." Wilson wiped at his mouth before leaning forward in an attempt to keep this private. It was the primary reason he had led them both out here. "About...Amber. I know I told you her death wasn't your fault, and I meant that." He let out a heavy sigh before continuing. "I always thought forgiveness was implied in that, but...obviously I need to come right out and say it." Brown met blue across the table. "I forgive you, House."

House's eyes went wide at the words, and Wilson wasn't sure what would happen next. House appeared calm, but the twitch at his jaw said otherwise.

"Why?" House finally rasped out. "Why now?"

"Because it's true." Wilson told him simply. "In all the talks we've had...I've never once told you that."

"You shouldn't."

Wilson's eyebrows knitted at House's words. "Why?"

House shook his head, looking down at his plate. "You just...shouldn't."

Wilson reached across the table, placing his hand on top of House's. The older doctor squirmed but otherwise didn't react. "What the hell is the point of beating yourself up over this? It doesn't change anything. Amber's _dead_, House. No amount of self-flagellation will bring her back." He pulled back, tilting his head. "Maybe you don't need my forgiveness...but you do need to forgive yourself."

Wilson started to rise from the table when he heard House emit a heavy sigh. He sat again, waiting for House to respond.

He drummed his fingers on the table, looking far off in the distance. "She was good for you. A hell of a lot better than any of those bimbos you married."

Wilson nodded. He couldn't disagree with that.

"Why the hell did she come after me?" House's voice was soft as he clearly tried to figure out the puzzle. "None of your others would have."

"She didn't hate you, House." Wilson tilted his head at the memory. "She didn't exactly _like_ you, but she didn't hate you, either."

"Still makes no damn sense." House grumbled. "She should have just left me. If she had...she'd still be here."

Wilson still wasn't sure where House's unique brand of logic was taking this. House finally looked up at him with a deep sadness in his eyes. It was a look that scared Wilson a little. "Amber would still be here...and maybe...I wouldn't."

"You don't know that." Fear clutched at Wilson's chest, even as he knew there was something to House's assessment of the situation. There were so many ways it could have played out. Was there really any point in rehashing every possible scenario?

Then again, this _was_ House. House lived and died by analysis in any form. The older man huffed and pushed himself out of the chair, grabbing his tray on his way. "I've got a...thing. See you later."

"See you around, House." Wilson sighed as he watched House go. This hadn't gone anything like he thought it would. Perhaps this hadn't been the best place, but Wilson knew he'd have a hard time catching him any other time.

A new streak of stubbornness rose up in Wilson. House didn't seem to think he deserved forgiveness for his actions, and Wilson knew there was far more to the story than Amber. At the very least, Wilson needed this as much as House did. Somehow, he would find a way to get through to him. He just didn't quite know how he would get there just yet.

# # #

House's mind was still working over Wilson's words as he made his way back to his office after lunch. Wilson had told him repeatedly that Amber's death wasn't his fault, but this was the first time he had offered forgiveness.

As usual, Wilson was right. It was difficult, if not impossible for House to accept forgiveness on this one. He had done everything he could to save her, and in the end, it was all for nothing. It always made House wonder if he had indeed done _everything_ he could. Of course, if he hadn't gotten on that damn bus to start with...

No wonder she was still popping up in his dreams, taunting him, mocking him. House had thought that once the hallucinations ended, so would any visions of Amber. How wrong he had been.

"House!" Foreman's voice brought him back to the present, stopping him just before he entered his office. "Where the hell have you been?"

House rolled his eyes. "Lunch. A man's got to eat before he goes to the gallows."

Foreman looked exasperated. "We've got to go. Cuddy's waiting."

"Oh, well, in that case...can't keep the girls waiting." House turned on his heel and headed back to the elevator, leaving Foreman behind. He quickly caught up with the older doctor just before he stepped on, ducking in just before the doors closed.

They stood side by side in silence, and Foreman glanced over at House as they rode down. He couldn't help but notice some sort of mark on House's neck, and it made him do a double take. _That can't possibly be what I think it is..._

"What the hell are you staring at?" House snapped.

"Nothing, House." Foreman recovered his calm demeanor, a smug feeling rising up in him. House was right. He should have bet Taub more than fifty bucks.

"Told you you should have bet more than fifty." House commented quietly, an amused expression crossing his weathered features. Foreman gave House a startled look as both men exited the elevator, shaking his head as they strode toward Cuddy's office.

House stopped just short of the door, any trace of amusement gone, replaced by a far more somber look. Foreman hung just behind him, feeling distinctly awkward.

"It's just a meeting, House." Foreman finally spoke. "Nobody's leading you to your death."

"Not yet." House spoke quietly. He took a deep breath and opened the door, attempting to steady his nerves.

Cuddy greeted them both with her trademark warm smile as they entered. "Take a seat."

Both men settled into the chairs in front of her desk. Foreman wore a mask of calm, while House couldn't seem to sit still, bouncing his cane on the floor between his legs. Cuddy sat back in her desk chair, studying both men carefully.

"Relax, will you?" Cuddy leaned forward, clasping her hands together and placing them on the desk. "The board just wants a...status report, of sorts."

Foreman looked baffled. "What kind of 'status report'?"

"The board is concerned about House's...stability." Cuddy glanced at House. "They want any unusual behavior noted."

House started to rise from the chair. "Since this meeting is only _about_ me...I'll just be going."

"Sit down." Cuddy spoke sharply.

House plopped back down with a huff, glaring at Cuddy. Cuddy quickly regained her administrative calm, taking a breath before addressing both men. "Look, I'm only doing this as a heads-up. If anything seems...off, I need to know. Got it?"

_Define 'off'._ Foreman thought. Ever since he and House had come to their agreement, the older doctor hadn't done much of anything out of the ordinary, at least for him. House snorted in his seat next to Foreman.

"Well, this has been..." House's mouth twisted in a thoughtful expression. "...what's the word I'm looking for? Oh, right. _Pointless._ I could have been doing clinic duty, you know." He heaved himself out of his chair and started for the door. Foreman quickly followed, nodding to Cuddy. He didn't want to say so, but he agreed with House. If Cuddy had simply wanted to give them a heads-up, she could have found a better way to do it.

He finally caught up to House as the older man was waiting for the elevator, tapping his cane on the floor with a frown on his face. House shook his head as Foreman approached. "Damn administrators, anyway."

"I know." Foreman followed House onto the elevator. "She's been riding my ass ever since you came back. 'Keep an eye on him. Make sure he's okay. Is he okay?' Ridiculous. If the board didn't think you were fit to practice, you wouldn't be here."

"Try telling her that." House's face twisted in a small smile.

Foreman shrugged. "Things have changed. Can't deny that. Just because it's mostly for the better doesn't make it any easier."

House narrowed his eyes and looked Foreman up and down. "When did you get so damn smart?"

"Don't know." Foreman looked ponderous. "Must have been during that time my boss was in..." He suddenly caught himself, not sure how sensitive House was about his time in Mayfield.

"What were you going to say?" House's eyes flashed briefly in anger. "The nut house? The looney bin? Maybe even the funny farm?"

Foreman had his answer. He pushed through the conference room door, leaving House in the hallway. "Think I'll work on my journal article. See you later."

House ignored him and pushed through the door to his office, furious with himself for snapping at Foreman. It wasn't as if he meant anything by it, and the man was in one hell of a position. House wouldn't want to babysit someone like himself either. He huffed and plopped down in his office chair, briefly checking his e-mail before settling into a game of Minesweeper.

His mind wasn't anywhere near the mindless game, and he finally gave up, pushing himself out of his chair to limp over to the door that connected his office with the conference room. "I'm leaving." He announced to Foreman. "If that's okay with you...boss."

Foreman bit back a response and took a small breath. "See you in the morning."

The conference door closed with a whoosh, and Foreman blew out a heavy exhale. House had always been mercurial, and Foreman should have known better than to make _any _reference to his time in Mayfield. Still, it didn't make things any easier to handle. Perhaps things would be better tomorrow, but somehow Foreman doubted it. Unless, of course...House paid a visit to whoever put that mark on him.

Foreman smirked a little at the thought. He noted that Taub still hadn't paid up, despite all the evidence. He made a mental note to remind him and returned to his research. Perhaps he could convince the other doctor to go double or nothing. That could be entertaining, definitely.

# # #

House took a long ride after he left the hospital, hoping to lose some of the frustration that had built up over the course of the day. Between the conversation with Wilson and the meeting with Cuddy, it had been an extraordinarily difficult day.

The ride did nothing but make his leg cramp up, and he furiously yanked off his helmet after he pulled into his parking space, rubbing his leg until the cramp finally let go. He dismounted the bike and limped into the apartment, slamming the door behind him and heading immediately to the piano.

He moved from piece to piece, letting his fingers pick out the music while his mind worked over the day's events. None of it seemed to make sense, and House eventually gave up, closing the lid over the keys with a slightly vicious thud. He placed his elbows on the now-covered keys and his forehead in his hands.

Today had been...defeating. That summed it up, nice and neat. All the progress House thought he had made seemed to disappear over the course of the day, and it seemed there was nowhere to turn. Wilson would want to talk more about the Amber thing, and House was done talking about that, at least for the time being.

His phone started chiming, and House dug it out of his pocket, checking the Caller ID. He nearly let it go to voice mail, but finally flipped it open.

"House."

"Hey." House's heart beat a little quicker upon the sound of Anthony's voice. "You're sounding a little rough, hon."

"Just...one of those days." House heaved himself from the piano bench, pacing around as he talked. "So what's up?"

"Nothing much." Anthony answered, knowing there was more to the story that what House was telling. "Just letting you know that there's food here if you're interested. You know...if you feel like showing up."

House stopped pacing. Initially he had considered riding over to Anthony's from the hospital, but rejected it. He didn't want to appear clingy, needy, obsessive. On the other hand...he could use the food and the company. "Good to know. I might...make my way over there. You never know."

Anthony's soft chuckle carried through the phone. "Well, you know. Show up if you want to, don't if you...don't. Talk to you later."

"Bye." House snapped his phone closed, turning it over in his hands. It would be so easy to metaphorically curl up into a ball and hide. Hide in bad take out, his bourbon, and his TiVo.

Somehow that didn't seem good enough anymore. It sure as hell wouldn't ease his doubts and fears. Not that Anthony would take them all away, but at least he wouldn't be alone. Right now, that _was _good enough.

# # #

**Please be so kind as to read and review. Thanks to those of you that have done so already, and those that have added this to your alerts. :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Usual disclaimers apply. Don't own House, but I do use him for my entertainment. **

# # #

Night had fallen across the apartment without House realizing it. He opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the dark room before pushing himself to a sitting position. The TV still blared in the background, set to some unknown channel. Funny that he didn't remember turning it on at all.

His phone started chiming, and House started the hunt for it. He found it right on top of the piano where he had left it after Anthony called earlier, but by the time he flipped it open, it had already gone to voice mail. Irritated, he shoved it back in his pocket and started back to the couch.

The phone chimed again, and House growled as he dug the damn thing out of his pocket. Whoever was calling was certainly persistent, if nothing else. He flipped it open, not bothering to check the Caller ID.

"Yeah?" He snapped.

On the other end, Anthony was startled by House's surly response. "Hey...just letting you know that I'm heading for bed. You're still welcome to come over if you want."

House sighed heavily and scrubbed his hand over his face. He actually felt bad for snapping at Anthony. "Think I'll stay here. I'm not exactly great company tonight."

There was a long pause, and House thought Anthony had hung up on him. "You know..." Anthony spoke carefully. "This thing could go both ways."

House rolled his eyes, waiting for the inevitable punchline. "Go on..."

"I could always come over there."

"Sure." House snorted derisively. "If hanging out with a cranky old man is your idea of a good time."

"It is." Anthony chuckled. "You haven't figured that out by now?"

House huffed and laid back down on the couch, debating with himself. Normally he considered other people an intrusion when he was in this kind of mood. Anthony wasn't exactly 'other people', though. House welcomed his company, and lately he preferred it to being alone. That _was_ unusual.

"Hello?" Anthony sounded a little concerned on the other end. "Greg? You still there?"

"Yeah, still here." House stretched out, taking up the entire couch. "Just thinking."

"Of course." Anthony pulled out the container of leftovers and set it on the counter while he packed up his bag. "Keep thinking. I'm packing."

House smirked a little at Anthony's calm determination. "I think I've still got beer if you've got food."

Anthony eyed the leftovers on the counter, a slow smile creeping across his face. "I think you've got a deal. See you in a bit."

He hung up before House could respond. "Sneaky bastard." House muttered to himself, even as he smiled a little, shoving the phone back in his pocket. It was almost as if Anthony knew that House wanted him there all along. House had to admire the younger man's tenacity.

House was still deep in thought when he heard the knock at the door. He shoved himself off the couch and limped toward the door, throwing it open.

He scowled when he saw Wilson, nearly slamming the door in his face. Instead he snapped, "Oh, it's you. What do you want?"

Wilson gave House a sideways glance. "I was in the neighborhood. Figured I'd stop by."

"Well, you can leave now. Got company coming soon." House leaned against the doorframe.

"Oh." Wilson felt a little disappointed. House would normally let him in, albeit a little reluctantly. "Are you...you know, okay?"

House rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. "Fine. Couldn't be better."

Wilson shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure." House spoke sharply. "See you around."

Wilson nodded and turned toward the outside door, alternately puzzled and hurt by House's behavior. He'd tried so hard to reach out to him, but the older man just didn't seem to want it. It was baffling and frustrating.

He nearly ran into Anthony when he opened the door, startling them both. Wilson gave him a nod and a polite smile. "Good luck with him. He's in one of his moods."

"I kind of figured." Anthony nodded in response. "Thanks for the heads-up."

"Sure." Wilson answered as he passed. He sighed a little as he made his way towards his car. If Anthony did somehow manage to get through to House...well, he supposed he'd find out in the morning. As usual, Wilson would just have to wait and see.

# # #

House was pacing around his living room, once again deep in thought when he heard the knock at the door again. He growled as he quickly made his way over, throwing it open. "I told you I was fine..."

His anger quickly dissipated when he discovered that it was Anthony and not Wilson, and he could feel his cheeks flush. "Sorry." He mumbled. "Thought you were Wilson."

"Yeah, about that..." Anthony frowned a little. "Something going on?"

"Nothing that concerns you." House snapped, turning away from the door.

Anthony stepped through the open door and made a beeline to the kitchen to start the container heating in the microwave.

The smell of whatever was heating brought House into the kitchen, eyeing both the appliance and the man carefully. He pulled a pair of beers from the refrigerator and limped over to where Anthony stood in front of the microwave.

Anthony lifted his eyes when a beer bottle magically appeared in front of him, presented by a very serious-looking House. He accepted it, taking a long drink as House leaned against the counter, bouncing his cane on the floor, his eyes darting around the room.

"Your food should be done before too long." Anthony dared to reach out and squeeze House's shoulder as he started to leave the kitchen.

House nodded, scowling at Anthony's touch before taking Anthony's spot in front of the microwave. As he waited, House tried to work out the conflict that wouldn't leave his mind. Had he let Wilson in, he was sure the man would have been only too happy to order in food and hang out with House, and the two would have fallen into their usual routine. If only Wilson hadn't tried to offer his forgiveness at lunch today. House knew Wilson expected _something_ in return. He just didn't know what that something could possibly be.

The shrill beep of the microwave jerked him out of his thoughts, and he pulled the steaming dish out, fishing through the drawer underneath for a fork. Finding one, he stirred up whatever was in the container. It was rich with spice, some mix of vegetables, sausage, chicken, and rice. He grinned as he leaned against the counter and took his first bite. Gumbo...damn. House hadn't had a decent gumbo since that medical conference in New Orleans all those years ago, the same one where he had met Wilson.

Wilson. House huffed in frustration as he gathered up his food and beer and made his way back to the living room. Anthony was already settled in the armchair, his long legs stretched out on the coffee table, glasses perched on his nose, deep into his book. He glanced up with a quick smile when House plopped heavily onto the couch and lifted his leg onto the coffee table to join Anthony's.

A comfortable quiet fell over the room as House worked his way through his gumbo, finally tossing the container on the end table with a contented sigh. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he pulled it out of the microwave, and now he was starting to feel better in more ways than one.

Anthony chuckled and looked up from his book. "So I take it you liked it?"

"Best I've had since New Orleans." House replied, leaning against the back of the couch.

"Really?" Anthony was interested. "When was that?"

"Long time ago. I was there for a medical conference, and ended up bailing some guy out of jail after a bar fight."

Anthony put down his book and took off his glasses. "This story I've got to hear."

House smirked at the memory. "I saw this young guy wandering around with a big envelope under his arm. Refused to let go of it, refused to open it. Somehow we ended up in some bar that night, and someone kept playing 'Leave A Tender Moment Alone' on the jukebox."

Anthony nodded. "Not the best Billy Joel song ever, but still a pretty good one."

"Right." House nodded, glaring a little at Anthony for the interruption. "Anyway, one guy in the bar didn't appreciate it so much."

"Same guy with the big envelope?"

"The one and the same. So he just _loses_ it and flings his glass at an antique mirror behind the bar. The thing shatters, and the place goes batshit. The guy gets arrested_, _but I somehow got out of there."

Anthony turned in his chair, alternately amused and amazed at the story House was telling. "That can't be the end of the story."

"Oh no, there's more." House grinned and dragged his leg off the coffee table, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I kind of felt bad for the guy, so I did a little nosing around the next day. I found out where he was being held and I sprung him."

"You bailed him out?" Anthony was incredulous. "You didn't even know him!"

House shrugged. "He was just as surprised as you are."

"Why did you bail him out?"

"He was interesting." House seemed to lose himself a little in the memory. "Not to mention kind of cute. Not that I told him that, of course. We wouldn't be friends now if I had."

Anthony started to put the pieces together, his green eyes lighting up with recognition. "It was Doctor Wilson, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." House answered softly. "We stayed in touch, and when there was an opening at Plainsboro, he jumped on it. Been friends ever since."

Anthony tried to envision Wilson losing his temper, and couldn't. "I just can't see him doing anything like that."

"That's nothing." House's mouth twisted in a half smile. "Should have seen him at my dad's funeral. He threw a full bottle of booze through a stained glass window."

"Now why would he do something like that?"

House's face turned serious. "You could say I...provoked him."

"How so?"

House twisted his fingers together, looking at the floor. "I didn't even want to go to the damn thing. I wouldn't have either, if Cuddy hadn't drugged me and twisted Wilson's arm. Anyway...I gave this awful eulogy, and Wilson and I ended up arguing in some side room. He snapped and chucked a bottle at me, and it went through the stained glass window instead of through me."

Anthony suddenly looked thoughtful. "At least you went, even if it was under duress. I didn't go to my dad's funeral."

"Understandable." House glanced up at him. "It's not like you had a great relationship with him."

"I still should have gone." Anthony's voice took on a rough tone. "My mom was furious for _months_ after I pulled that little no-show."

Silence fell over the room once again, both men deep in thought. Finally Anthony held out his hand to House. "I didn't mean to make it all about me."

"It's alright." House reluctantly took the hand Anthony offered, lightly brushing the back of it with his thumb. "You know...I'm glad you showed up."

Anthony fixed House with a warm smile. "Me too. Although...you could have just _told_ me you wanted my company."

"Where's the fun in that?" House smirked, even as he knew Anthony had a point.

"I'm not really into guessing games, Greg." Anthony answered quietly. "I was pretty sure you wanted me here, but...you could have just as easily pushed me out."

"Normally I would have." House agreed. "I still might."

"I know." The thought was troubling for Anthony. "It's a hard thing...knowing when to push you and when to hold back."

"You're doing pretty damn good so far." House continued playing with Anthony's hand.

"I wouldn't have to if you'd just fucking talk to me." Anthony felt a flash of anger rise in him.

"Jesus, Tony." House growled, releasing Anthony's hand and pushing himself off the couch to pace around the room. "I just don't _do _that. It's not my thing, never has been." He paused near the piano, brushing his hand across the top with his back to Anthony. "Why bother when no one wants to hear it anyway?"

Anthony's anger disappeared almost as quickly as it had came as he rose from the chair and crossed the room to where House stood. House's shoulders were slumped, and his head hung low. He looked, if not quite broken, then very definitely bent. Anthony delicately placed his hands on House's shoulders, rubbing gently.

"_I_ want to hear it." Anthony whispered in his ear. "I don't want to guess at what you need."

House closed his eyes, relaxing under Anthony's hands. Even now, it was difficult for him to consider his own needs and wants, and even harder to consider the idea that they might get met. "Just so you know...I can be pretty demanding."

Anthony chuckled as he felt House relax, placing a small kiss on the back of his neck. "Don't worry. I _do _know how to say no if I need to."

House slowly turned around, slipping his hands around Anthony's waist and pulling him close. "I think I know what I want right now."

"And what would that be?" Anthony responded in kind, setting his chin on House's shoulder.

"Nothing much, I guess." House seemed to carefully consider each word as he spread his long fingers out along Anthony's back. "Just you."

"Is that all?" Anthony was amused by House's simple statement.

"Yep." House could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he held the younger man close. There was so much that House wanted to say, but he just couldn't quite get it out. Finally he blew out a long sigh and pressed a kiss to Anthony's clean-scented neck. "I'm going to bed. Coming with?"

"Only if that's what you want." Anthony wrapped a hand around House's neck.

House nodded firmly, a slow smile creeping over his rough features. "Wouldn't have asked if I didn't." He looked briefly thoughtful. "Maybe...you could finish that massage thing you started."

Anthony's face seemed to light up at the idea. "I'd love to."

"Good." House seemed relieved. "Guess I'll meet you down the hall."

House started across the room, picking up his cane along the way. He was still leaning heavily on it, but it seemed to Anthony that some weight had been lifted from the older man's shoulders. It was a start, at least, and Anthony hoped House could keep himself on that path. Eventually it would get easier for both of them.

# # #

House was laying on his stomach, arms crossed under his head, when he felt the mattress dip next to him. He thought he caught a whiff of cinnamon as he felt Anthony's hands start to smooth over his neck and shoulders.

"Tony..." He mock scolded. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

A low chuckle was Anthony's response. "Not directly." He squirted a bit more of the oil into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it slightly before laying his hands on House once more. "Got a new massage oil. I thought I'd try it out on you before I unleashed it on the public."

House smirked, shifting slightly to tuck the pillow under his head. "What kind of massage place are you running?" He winced as Anthony hit an especially sore spot in his right shoulder.

"Not the kind _you're _thinking of." Anthony answered, kneading a little deeper, even as he felt House tense under him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. It's always sore there." House was slowly melting under Anthony's skilled hands, emitting a soft sigh as the tension finally released. "You must do pretty well with this massage thing."

"I do okay." Anthony smiled as he moved to House's left shoulder. "Beats the hell out of what I was doing."

House frowned. "What was that?"

"Cubicle farm hell." Anthony answered. "Otherwise known as 'middle management'."

House had trouble visualizing Anthony in anything other than casual wear. "What happened?"

"I graduated from college with my fancy business management degree and went corporate, just like most people did. It was the tail end of the eighties, lots of opportunities and money floating around for the young and ambitious, and I was both." Anthony continued working on House, pressing down both sides of his spine. "I started climbing the ladder, and kind of got stuck. To move any further, I would have needed more education."

"So why didn't you?"

"Didn't want to." Anthony told him bluntly. "Once I saw what was above me, I kind of lost my taste for it."

"Still doesn't explain what you're doing now." House mumbled, losing himself in Anthony's touch and the spicy scent of the massage oil.

"I'm getting there." Anthony was somewhere around House's lower back now. "The long hours and the stress started to get to me, so one of my co-workers recommended this masseuse. Started going to her, we got to talking, and...the rest is sort of history. Now I've got a practice going, a good clientele, and I love what I do."

"So...You left behind a sure thing without knowing how it would all work out." House was impressed with Anthony's story.

"Pretty much." Anthony leaned down to kiss House on the head, inhaling the blend of scents that floated off him. "Guess you could say I've always been a risk taker."

House smiled and closed his eyes. "Good thing."

Anthony lightly smoothed a hand down House's back before settling in next to him, laying on his side to look at him. "Yeah, it is...for both of us."

House stared at Anthony with an uncharacteristically soft expression as he slipped an arm around Anthony's waist, bringing him in close. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For...tonight, I guess." House murmured. "I was kind of being an ass. Most people would have bailed out."

"I'm not most people." Anthony replied softly, kissing House on the forehead.

"I know." House wrapped a hand around Anthony's neck, pulling him in for a quick kiss. "Probably going to fall out on you now."

Anthony chuckled. "Guess I'll have to try that oil out on you some other time."

"If you insist." House mumbled, feeling sleep start to overtake him.

"I do." Anthony pressed one more small kiss to House's temple before pulling away. By the time he set the alarm on his cell phone and climbed back into bed, the older man had already fallen asleep.

Anthony pulled the covers over both of them and curled up next to House, deeply inhaling the scent of cinnamon that still wafted off him, mixed with his other scents. It was a damn shame the man had fallen asleep, but with any luck, there would be many more opportunities for them. Things seemed to be moving in the right direction for both of them again, and Anthony was once again grateful he had taken the risk of coming over. It seemed that it had paid off...again.

# # #

**Handing it over to you, Dear Reader. Read and review. :)**


	25. Chapter 25

**You know the routine. I don't own anything here but the O/Cs. I'm just using the others for my own amusement.**

# # #

House was in that blissful state somewhere between wakefulness and sleep when he heard Anthony's cell phone alarm go off. The younger man groaned and shifted, pressing a soft kiss to House's temple.

"Hitting the shower." Anthony murmured before leaving the bed.

House slowly pushed himself over so he lay on his back, watching Anthony move around the bedroom through half-open eyes. "Is that an invitation?"

Anthony paused, then shook his head as he chuckled. "Could be. I guess it depends on how fast you feel like moving."

"You've already got a head start." House grumbled. "No fair."

"Best get creative then." Anthony squeezed House's foot on his way out.

"Tease." House huffed and rolled over on his side, the sweet cinnamon scent still lingering from the night before. A smile twitched at his lips at the memory. Normally House wasn't one who was comfortable with being touched, in any context. It was another wall that Anthony had managed to break down, without either of them realizing it. The simple act of Anthony's hands working over him while he talked to House suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world.

House marveled at how quickly he'd allowed himself to reach that level of intimacy with Anthony. Even with Stacy, he had never quite managed that, as much as he had loved her. He'd always had trouble expressing it.

A thought suddenly popped into House's head, and he pushed himself out of bed as quickly as he could manage. The shower water was still running as he approached the bathroom door, and he took a deep breath before opening it and pushing through.

The crisp scent of Anthony's soap hit House's nose as he entered, and he could hear the other man humming to himself. House quickly undressed and awkwardly slipped in at the opposite end of the shower, taking a moment to admire the sight before him.

Anthony's back was to House, and the way the water washed over his muscular back was just as he had imagined it the other morning. It definitely stirred something in House as he carefully made his way down to wrap himself around the younger man.

He jumped slightly at the touch, relaxing into a chuckle as House pressed his lips to the back of his neck, working his way down to his shoulder. "You made it."

"Mm-hm." House murmured as his hands smoothed over Anthony's body, feeling the combination of skin and hair and muscle under them. "Turn around."

Anthony did so, taking in the cinnamon scent that wafted up from House's body in the steam of the hot shower. House seemed to study him, fixing him with that intense expression, made more so by those piercing blue eyes. Finally he crashed his lips against Anthony's with a fierceness that caught Anthony off guard, breaking away to work his way down his throat, never slowing down until he reached the middle of Anthony's chest.

House left a lingering kiss there as he awkwardly eased himself to his knees in front of him, brushing the sides of Anthony's stomach with his hands while his lips continued their trail downward, stopping just above his center. He pressed a firm kiss there, ending it with a flick of his tongue, evoking a rough gasp from the younger man.

The sight of the older man kneeling in front of him was oddly beautiful to Anthony, and he roughly stroked the back of House's head while House teased him with tongue and lips before finally taking him in his mouth.

Anthony leaned against the tile, closing his eyes and losing himself in the sensation of House's mouth gently working over him while his hands tenderly roamed over his body, wandering wherever he could reach. A low moan escaped him as House took him in further, his tongue flicking the same tender spot that had taken him over the other morning.

"God...dammit...Greg..." Anthony tightened his grip on House's head as he went over, nearly collapsing on the floor of the shower. He let out a long sigh, relaxing his grip and lightly stroking the top of the older man's head. "How the hell do you _do_ that?!"

House let out a low chuckle, wrapping his arms around Anthony's waist and pressing his cheek to the younger man's thigh. "Told you it was coming back to me." He released Anthony and grabbed a hold of his arms. "How about giving the old cripple a hand up?"

Anthony easily grabbed House's forearms and helped pull the older man to his feet, feeling the muscles flex under his hands. He pulled House in for a long, lingering kiss. "You're not old, and you're not a cripple, not by any stretch of the imagination."

"I am, and...I am. No sense denying the truth."

Anthony reached down to tenderly trace the outline of the ragged scar on House's thigh. "Fine, but it's not all you are. I wish you would realize that."

The move caught House by surprise, and he could feel a lump rising in his throat. A rush of feelings took him over as he roughly wrapped himself around Anthony, kissing his temple. "You'd better get out of here. Wouldn't want you to be late."

Anthony tilted his head at the rough tone of House's voice. "What about you?"

House seemed to calm himself long enough to meet Anthony's eyes. "Let's just say...I'm good."

"Alright then." Anthony laughed and lightly stroked House's forehead. "I'll...see you later?"

"Maybe. Depends on how the day goes." House pressed a kiss to Anthony's cheek. "I'll keep you posted."

"That'll work." Anthony slipped away to step out of the shower, leaving House alone with his thoughts. He never did get the chance to tell Anthony what was originally on his mind when he came in here.

"Hey." Anthony turned his head to see House's head sticking out of the shower. He suddenly looked very open and vulnerable, and Anthony stepped back over to face him.

"What's on your mind?"

House almost backed down, suddenly feeling unsure. Finally he lifted his eyes to meet Anthony's. "You know...Stacy once told me she felt lonely with me, like there wasn't room for her."

"Yeah...?" Anthony waited, knowing there would be more forthcoming.

"I don't want that to happen to us." House's face was set in determination as he reached out to stroke Anthony's face. "If I...you know...start..." House seemed to have trouble finding the words. He sighed in frustration. "I push people away. It's what I do, I've done it...God, forever. Promise you won't let me do that to you?"

Anthony wrapped a hand around House's neck, overwhelmed by House's sudden show of vulnerability. "I'll do my best."

House nodded, his eyes taking on an odd shine. "Guess that's all anyone can ask, huh?" He roughly kissed the younger man. "Go on, boy. Get the hell out of here. Can't keep all those tense people waiting."

"Right." Anthony brushed his hand along House's jaw as he pulled away. "Love you."

"You too." House quickly ducked back inside the shower, leaving Anthony to finish getting ready. He recognized the significance of the moment that had just transpired between them, and Anthony wanted to hold it, cherish it, knowing it might not ever happen again.

Anthony left the apartment a short time later, his heart a little lighter than it had been when he had arrived the night before. They seemed to be moving forward, a little at a time. It was developing into a very good thing, and Anthony couldn't help but feel like they were headed in the right direction. He hoped that House was feeling something similar as he made his way to work, feeling himself fall into his regular groove once again.

# # #

House strode through the double doors of PPTH, feeling far less beaten down than he had when he'd left the day before. While it was possible that his shower time with Anthony might have had a little something to do with that, he knew it was more about the conversation between them the night before.

If he had to be honest with himself, House felt like something of an idiot for not just coming out and telling Anthony that he wanted his company. He wasn't used to being around someone who was so open and honest with their feelings. It messed with his carefully crafted world view, and House didn't know what to think of that.

Right now it didn't matter. House shoved thoughts of Anthony aside as he saw Cuddy approaching him, and he dreaded a repeat of yesterday's awkward meeting. He quickly ducked his head, hoping against hope that Cuddy was on her way to somewhere else.

"House!" _Dammit._ He could hear Cuddy's heels clicking on the tile floor as she caught up to him at the elevator.

"You rang?" House turned to see a case file in Cuddy's hand. "Little present for...us?"

"Yes." She tapped the case file against the palm of her hand. "42-year-old female presents with tremors and seizures. All standard neurological tests negative, no sign of tumors."

House's eyes seemed to light up as he reached for the file. "I'll take it with me. I assume you want me to run it past the boss."

Cuddy's mouth twisted as she glared at House. "You and Foreman work on it _together_. You're a team. Act like it."

She swiftly spun on her heel and marched back to her office, her hips swishing as she went. House watched her go, admiring the view from behind. He heard a snort next to him that dissolved into a chuckle.

"Still checking out the scenery?" Thirteen was next to him, a smirk on her face.

"Like you don't do the same." House grumbled as he stepped on the elevator, Thirteen following him.

"Sure." She agreed. "I didn't say there was anything wrong with it." She peeked over at the file House was carrying. "New case?"

"Yes." House gave Thirteen a sharp look as he flipped open the file.

"Looks interesting." Thirteen caught a whiff of House's scent. "You smell good today."

House rolled his eyes and closed the file. "Soap and water. That's the big secret."

Thirteen's face spread in a wide grin. "This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain...someone, would it?"

House's eyes went a little wide, and Thirteen knew she had busted him. His mouth twisted in a grimace as he tapped his cane on the floor. "Foreman's got a big mouth." He finally muttered, looking at the floor.

"That he does." The elevator doors opened at the fourth floor, and the pair stepped out, heading toward diagnostics. Thirteen suddenly stopped in front of House, facing him as she folded her arms over her chest. "You're embarrassed. Why?"

"Oh for Christ's sake." House rolled his eyes and thumped his cane on the carpeted floor. "What does it matter?"

"That's kind of my point." Thirteen gave House a sideways glance. "If you're happy...ish, then it doesn't matter. Just enjoy it."

House gave her a steely look as he slapped the case file in her hand. "Take this to your blabbermouth boyfriend. I'll be there in a minute. Kind of got a...thing."

He turned around and started down the hall toward Wilson's office, and Thirteen watched him go, tapping the case file in her hand as he disappeared down the hallway. Finally she turned back toward diagnostics, shaking her head. There was just no explaining House sometimes, plain and simple, and she decided that she would be better off just sticking to her job instead of trying to figure out House.

# # #

House lumbered down the hall, stopping just in front of the door to Wilson's office. He wasn't sure exactly what he planned on saying when he went in there, but somehow he knew he owed Wilson _some_ kind of explanation for his behavior.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to collect his thoughts before he finally opened the door. Wilson was discussing something with a patient and another doctor, and Wilson arched an eyebrow in response to the interruption.

"Something you want, House?"

House shook his head. "Not important. Just..." He twisted his mouth. "I'll be my office. Come down when you get a chance."

Wilson's eyebrows shot up. "Who are you, and what have you done with House?" The other doctor softly chuckled at the comment.

House shot a deadly glare at the other doctor before turning his eyes on Wilson. "Just come find me, okay?"

Something in House's expression made Wilson take notice, and he nodded. "I'll be there as soon as I'm done here."

House simply nodded and closed the door behind him, heading back to diagnostics. This was important to House, and he didn't want to make an ass of himself or of Wilson. It could wait until Wilson was done. He needed a little more time to figure out exactly what he was going to say to him anyway.

He pushed through his office door and set down his backpack, hanging up his jacket on the hook. It was a cool morning, and he was still a little chilly after his ride in. Time for a cup of coffee while they started the differential.

Foreman, Thirteen and Taub were already discussing the case when House limped in, making a beeline for the coffeemaker. House leaned against the counter, sipping at the bitter brew while Foreman scribbled symptoms on the board.

After some discussion, Foreman sent Taub to start testing and Thirteen to interview the patient's husband. The husband, by all accounts, had barely left his wife's side since they had arrived, which immediately raised House's suspicions as well as Foreman's.

Soon Foreman and House were alone in the room, and House eased himself into a chair at the table. Foreman finished writing on the board and poured himself a cup of coffee, joining House at the table.

"I spoke to Cuddy again yesterday after you left." Foreman started.

House narrowed his eyes and set down his cup. "Did you, now?"

"She..." Foreman didn't know what to say.

"She's an idiot." House snapped. "It's okay to say it if it's true."

"That's not quite where I was going." Foreman briefly glared at House. "I...kind of told her off."

"Really..." House was suddenly interested again. He was almost proud of the neurologist. "How so?"

Foreman looked oddly uncomfortable as he twisted the coffee cup on the table. "I told her that you weren't a child and you didn't deserve to be treated like one."

House was impressed. "Your head's still attached, so I guess she didn't bite you too hard."

"No, she kind of...did this." Foreman did a credible impression of Cuddy's typical angry expression. "The she kind of...stalked away."

"Told you her bark's way worse than her bite." House chuckled as he took a drink of his coffee. He looked suddenly thoughtful. "I'm...proud of you."

Foreman looked baffled. "Why?"

"You took on the She-Devil and lived." Secretly, he was proud that Foreman had defended him. House wasn't convinced that he deserved it, but it was a strong gesture on Foreman's part. "About goddamn time you grew a pair."

"You wouldn't believe how hard it was to wrestle them back from Remy." Foreman rolled his eyes.

House had a smartass comment on the tip of his tongue when their pagers started going off. "Well damn, that was quick. Party's starting without us, I guess." He heaved himself from the chair and started for the elevator, Foreman close behind.

As they approached the patient's room, House spotted someone standing just outside the room, his hands pressed against the glass as the staff inside furiously worked to stabilize the patient. _Typical distressed family member_, thought House as he blew by on his way into the patient's room.

Every time the staff got her stabilized, seconds would pass before she started crashing again. After the fourth time, House was losing what little patience he had. "Everyone out!" He barked, shooing the nurses out of the room. He and Thirteen took one side while Taub and Foreman took the other, working over her until they finally tracked down the source of the crashing vitals.

She was finally stable again, and the team blew a joint sigh of relief. "Fifth time's the charm." House muttered, collapsing in the nearest chair, taking a moment before preparing to go on with the differential. He happened to look up, meeting the husband's eyes. The man looked familiar, but House couldn't quite place him. He set the puzzle aside in favor of the medical one that was on the bed in front of him. One mystery at a time seemed like enough at the moment.

# # #

The team reconvened in the conference room, arguing over symptoms and various diseases. Foreman continued writing on the board, attempting to organize the ideas that Taub and Thirteen threw out, while House paced around the room.

Wilson poked his head into the conference room just as things got rolling, and the room suddenly got quiet. "House."

House stopped pacing and lifted his head upon hearing Wilson's voice. "Yeah."

"Need a consult." Wilson fixed him with a meaningful look.

House nodded, pushing past Foreman. "Go on without me. I won't be a minute." He gestured to Wilson to meet him in his office.

Wilson followed House out to the balcony, closing the door behind him. "So...you wanted to talk to me?"

House leaned on the balcony railing, looking out over the grounds of the hospital. "Yeah." He twisted his mouth thoughtfully, still not sure what he wanted to say. His patient's crisis had prevented him from thinking about it much. "I...was kind of tough on you last night."

Wilson shrugged. "It's okay. Nothing you haven't done before. Except for the pushing-me-away-in-favor-of-the-man-friend part. That's new."

"Tony's not a replacement for you." House continued. "It's just that...after everything you said, I didn't want to deal with you. Nothing personal."

"I don't take back any of it." Wilson joined House at the railing. "I meant every word."

"I know that." House looked down at his clasped hands. "Thing is...it's not just about Amber. It's the whole...thing." He tilted his head in thought. "I've been disappointing people almost since I was born. Damn."

Wilson was incredulous. "How can you be so...matter of fact about it?!"

"Because it's true." House spoke calmly, pushing himself away from the railing to pace around the balcony. "Think about it. Fifty years old...can't make a relationship work, can barely hold on to a friend...good thing I've got this damn job...but even that's in question these days..."

Wilson's heart ached for his friend. It hurt him to think House thought so little of himself. He intercepted House as he paced around, stopping him by placing his hands on his shoulders. "Stop. Just...stop. Think about what you're saying. You're not talking about what's happening _now._ You're talking about what _might_ happen."

House fixed him with a steely look. He looked like he was about to say something before his pager interrupted him. "Gotta go. Patient's crashing."

Wilson let him go, knowing they were no closer to a resolution than they had been when he first walked in. House lumbered away, catching up with the rest of the team as they hurried to get to their patient. Wilson was more determined than ever to get to House, to try to make him see what he was truly worth to him. He didn't know if he'd ever get there, but it wouldn't stop him from trying.

# # #

**Review time! Push the button and tell me what you think. **


	26. Chapter 26

**One more chapter before I go to bed. I don't own any of the House kids, just the O/Cs.**

# # #

House didn't have time to think about his conversation with Wilson the rest of the day, thanks to the constant ups and downs of his patient. Things finally seemed to settle down late in the evening as the team gathered once again around the conference room, the whiteboard packed with symptoms, causes, and possible diseases.

Four pagers went off simultaneously, and the four of them looked at each other in exasperation. House leaned heavily on his cane and started to rise from the chair.

Foreman fixed him with a heavy scowl. "Stay put, House. I'll keep you posted."

House glared in response. "I'm not a fucking invalid. I'm going."

Foreman considered several responses and rejected them all. House was the human equivalent of a freight train, both physically and personally. It was probably better in the short run to just let the man go his own way. At least this way Foreman could keep an eye on him...if he could keep up with him.

He followed House onto the elevator, watching as the older doctor kept tapping his cane on the floor, clearly deep in thought.

"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but...are you okay?" Foreman asked warily, fully expecting House to bite his head off.

House glanced over at Foreman, briefly frowning. "Wilson? Is that you?" He closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the elevator. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay." There was a brief silence before Foreman broke it again. "You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"

"You're being paranoid." House growled. "Knock it off before I start calling you Cameron."

"Now that was just uncalled for." Foreman looked genuinely offended. "Ass."

"That's better." House smirked. "Welcome back, Foreman."

They stepped off on their patient's floor, meeting Taub and Thirteen just outside the room. Foreman immediately took charge. "What happened?"

"Allergic reaction to the antibiotics." Taub answered. "Odd, since there's nothing about that in her medical records."

"Get out." House snarked. "A patient with omissions in her medical history? Inconceivable." He paced up and down the hallway, ticking off symptoms and treatments in his head, muttering to himself.

Taub and Thirteen looked at each other, then at Foreman. "Is he okay?" Thirteen ventured.

"He's fine." Foreman assured her. "Probably just thinking. Kind of like what _we _should be doing."

"Could use some ideas, kids." House snapped as he returned to the group. "I'm not allowed to work alone."

Foreman rolled his eyes. "Let's get her on the other antibiotics and see what happens. I'll stay down here to monitor her while you two go back upstairs with House."

The other two doctors nodded and started to follow House.

"Doctor House?" An oddly familiar voice made House turn around.

"You kids go back upstairs. Someone wants to talk to Daddy alone." House sent the other two doctors back up to the conference room as the man approached him.

Slowly House put it together. He leaned on his cane, narrowing his eyes at the blond man. A wedding ring glinted on his left hand, and a concerned look crossed his features as he extended his hand to House.

"That's my wife in there, you know."

"Kind of figured." House tentatively shook the other man's hand with a skeptical look on his face. "That the one that's divorcing you, or was that some other wife?"

Drew narrowed his eyes at House. "My wife's dying and you're making jokes. Nice."

"Funny. You didn't give a shit last week." House moved closer until he was practically in the other man's face. "All you cared about was trying to get into Tony's pants."

"That's not true..." Drew looked appalled at House's assertion. "I was...scared, confused..."

"You're so full of shit." House snarled. "That idiot loved you. Did you know that? Damned if I know why."

"I loved him too." Drew answered quietly. "Still do."

"Un-fucking-believable." House shook his head, turning to walk away. "Your wife's been sick for what, two, three months?" A thought seemed to occur to him. "She wasn't divorcing you. You were..."

Drew's eyes filled with panic. "I didn't do anything to her, I swear."

"Foreman!" House bellowed down the hall, snapping the neurologist to attention. "What about heavy metals?"

Foreman quickly strode to where House and Drew stood. "What about them?"

"Have we tested for those yet?"

"We...didn't have a reason to." Foreman looked slightly baffled as he considered the possibility. "Heavy metal poisoning _would_ fit the majority of her symptoms. I'll set it up."

A slow smile curled onto House's lips as Drew squirmed in front of him. "You could save us a lot of trouble if you just told us what you poisoned her with."

"I didn't poison her." Drew looked House dead in the eye. "I love her. Why the hell would I do that?"

"As you can probably tell, I wasn't born yesterday." House snapped as he thumped his cane repeatedly on the floor. "How long were you planning on stringing Tony along, anyway?"

"Oh come off it!" Drew thew his hands up, thoroughly exasperated with House's harassement. "You know how guys like us are."

House regarded him skeptically. "What do you mean, 'guys like us'?"

"Come on, now." Drew smirked at him. "Men...women...it doesn't matter to us. It's all good, right? You mean to tell me you don't check out that hot little number that was down here earlier? I mean...we're different, you know?"

House's hand curled around his cane, resisting the urge to bash Drew in the head with the wooden object. "I can't speak for you, but when I find a good thing," House spoke in clipped tones. "I hold on to it. Male or female...It. Doesn't. Matter." He was nearly spitting in the man's face with anger.

"House!" Foreman made his way over to the two men. The older doctor looked as if he were ready to knock the other man on his ass, and Foreman was ready to intervene. "The lab's running the heavy metals test right now. It won't be ready for a while, but we can probably stop the antibiotics in the meantime."

"Sounds like a plan." House nodded firmly, backing away from Drew. His phone started chiming in his pocket, and House pulled it out, checking the Caller ID. "Speak of the devil. I'll tell him you said hi."

He flipped open his phone as he started down the hall, barely noticing Foreman keeping pace next to him. "Hey, Tony."

"Hey, you." Anthony's bright voice carried into his ear. "Just thought I'd check in before I started cooking."

House and Foreman stepped onto the elevator. "I don't know when I'm getting out of here. Goddamn patient keeps trying to die on us."

"No problem." Anthony moved around his kitchen while he talked, tossing Simon a corkscrew to open the bottle of wine he preferred to Anthony's beer. "Think I'll hang out with Simon tonight, if that's okay with you."

House rolled his eyes. "I don't see why not. It'd be like me hanging out with Wilson."

"Speaking of...is he okay? He seemed kind of upset last night."

"I guess." House frowned. "Been kind of busy today with all this doctor stuff." His and Foreman's pagers started going off simultaneously, and House used his cane to send them back down to the patient's floor. "Goddammit. Gotta go, Tony. Dying patient."

He snapped his phone closed and shoved it back in his pocket, glancing over at Foreman. Foreman regarded House with an arched eyebrow. "So it _is _true."

"What's true?" House glanced at the pager before shutting it off.

"You and that guy I did the neuro exam on."

"You don't know that." House snarked. "Could be a different guy for all you know."

"Right." Foreman rolled his eyes.

"Anyway...crisis first, lame attempt at poking into my personal life later." House limped heavily off the elevator toward the patient's room, nearly shoving Drew out of the way as he passed.

"What's happening?" Drew sounded panicked. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

"That's why we're here." House bellowed over his shoulder as he charged into the room, leaving Foreman behind to deal with Drew. "Dumbass." He muttered before barking at the nurses. "What happened in here?"

"I was doing my rounds when she started bleeding out." One of the nurses spoke up.

"Really..." House frowned as they prepared to move the patient.

"We're sending her to an OR right now." The same nurse informed him.

House nodded, following them out of the room and limping over to Foreman. "Tell hubby here that the little wife had a big bleed. She's headed for surgery right now."

Drew went pale. "Is she going to be okay?"

House turned and glared. "Do you care?"

"House!" Foreman hissed.

"Of course I care!" Drew seemed shocked at House's words.

House waved his hand carelessly as he followed the leaving patient. "Doctor Foreman here is her doctor. He'll fill you in."

Drew watched House go, his anger building. If House thought he could screw with Drew just because he was Anthony's man of the moment, he had another thing coming. God help the old bastard if anything happened to his wife. It would be a very bad day for House if that was the case.

# # #

The early morning light was starting to find its way into the diagnostics department as House stood in front of the whiteboard, staring at the ever-growing list of symptoms. He scowled as he crossed heavy metals off the list of causes. It would have explained so much, but the lab results had come back negative, and he couldn't argue with concrete results.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something missing as he limped over to the coffeemaker, pouring himself yet another cup of the slightly bitter brew. It didn't even come close to comparing to Anthony's coffee, and he suddenly found himself missing the guy.

"House." Foreman mumbled from the chair he leaned against, rubbing his eyes. "Go home for a while. We can handle things here."

"Not happening." House grumbled as he paced around, trying to get his tired brain in gear.

Taub roused from where his head lay on the table, blinking as he looked around.

"Morning, sweetheart." House snarked at the shorter man as he rose and stretched.

Taub barely batted an eyelash as he headed over to the coffeemaker, pouring the last of the pot into his cup and starting a fresh pot. He studied the list of symptoms, squinting in thought. "We've ruled out tumors, neurological disorders, infections, viruses, and fungi. What the hell is left?"

"Poison could still be on the table." Thirteen seemed to come to life, blinking her feline eyes as she leaned back in the chair.

"She tested negative for heavy metals." Foreman pondered. "Tox screen was negative, too."

"We're missing something." House was leaning his forehead against the whiteboard. "Something that doesn't show up on either screening."

Four pagers started screaming at once. "Oh for fuck's _sake_." House raged as led the charge out of the conference room, the rest of the team behind him as they rushed to the patient.

If Drew was anywhere around, House didn't notice. He was focused on the patient as the nurse updated him.

The patient was in the throes of a massive seizure, foamy blood flowing out of her mouth. "Taub, get a sample." Foreman spoke up before House could, and Taub quickly grabbed a tube to collect the foamy blood as the seizure finally abated, all vitals returning to normal.

House stood off to the side, tapping his cane in thought. Seizure activity usually had a common trigger. If they could find the trigger...

"What was happening just before she seized?" He asked one of the nurses.

She tilted her head, trying to recall. "I think her husband might have been in here visiting."

"Really..." House scowled. "Thirteen! Go hunt down hubby. Find out how he's triggering her seizures."

Thirteen looked baffled, but went in the direction of the nurses' station to have him paged.

"Doctor House?" The nurse nervously approached him. "She _was _conscious when he came to visit her. I overheard them talking."

House rolled his eyes. "Well, _that _would have been helpful information to have, say...ten hours ago."

"House! Shut the hell up!" Foreman snapped, the lack of sleep fraying what was left of his temper.

The nurse folded her arms over her chest, a stubborn tilt to her chin. "I wasn't here then. I just came in at midnight."

House nodded firmly and left the room, turning over the mystery in his mind. This thing was just getting stranger by the minute, and he knew they were running out of time.

"We'd better find a connection, fast." Foreman voiced House's thoughts. "I don't know how many more seizures she can live through without suffering some sort of damage."

Thirteen trotted back to the two of them, glancing between the two men. "He's not answering the page. I'm going to go through his contact information and try to get a hold of him."

"Jesus." House growled. "First we couldn't get rid of him, now the son of a bitch has disappeared."

Taub caught up with House and Foreman, moving quickly to keep up with them. "Dropped off the foamy blood at the lab. They're going to run complete blood work-up on it. Maybe it'll turn up something."

House nodded, the adrenaline leaving his body. A deep bone-tired feeling settled over him as he seemed to slump over his cane.

"You going to make it?" Foreman regarded House with guarded concern. "You're not looking so hot."

"You're looking pretty shabby yourself." House grumbled in reply. "I think there's a wrinkle in your jacket."

Foreman rolled his eyes. "At least go crash in your office for a while. I'll handle anything that comes up."

"Don't need to." House snarled as they stepped on the elevator. "Haven't we had this conversation already?"

"Yes, and now we're having it again." Foreman snapped back. "Look, we've been working on this for damn near twenty four hours. Get some goddamn rest."

"Fine." House finally gave up the fight. "I want to see the results as soon as they come in."

"You'll be the second one to know." Foreman assured him as they stepped off on the fourth floor and strode to diagnostics. House turned into his office while Taub and Foreman entered through the conference room.

Taub pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out a fifty dollar bill. "Pretty sure I owe you this."

Foreman arched his eyebrow as he looked at the money Taub held out to him. "What changed your mind?"

"Rachel and I ran into them at the movies over the weekend." Taub explained. "They seemed pretty...happy together."

Foreman chuckled as he pocketed the money, thinking back to the phone call he had overheard last night. House's voice had taken on an affectionate tone that he didn't think he had heard from the man before.

Whatever House had going on seemed to be working with him. It was odd picturing him with a guy, but oddly enough, Foreman didn't particularly care. It was making him a hell of a lot easier to work with, and if House was some version of happy, that was good enough for him.

# # #

An oddly familiar smell awakened House a couple of hours later, and it took him a few minutes to find his bearings. He opened his eyes to see Anthony sitting on his footstool, a smile lighting his face.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Or afternoon, in this case."

"What the hell are you doing here?" House grumbled as he pushed himself to a full sitting position. "Not that I'm not glad to see you or anything."

"I'm up here working on the pain study and thought I'd drop in." Anthony lightly rubbed House's shin. "Are you up for some lunch? I'll pay."

House grinned a little. "Maybe. I need to clean up first, though." He dug through his backpack for his pain meds, popping one out of each bottle while rubbing his thigh. "Can you rub a little higher? Just for a minute."

Anthony arched an eyebrow. "How much higher?"

"Funny boy." House chuckled. "Not that high. I _am _working, you know."

Anthony smiled as he worked around House's scar, feeling the tension release as he pressed into the muscle. "God, you must have put a hell of a lot of miles on this thing last night."

"Yeah. Too much, probably." House closed his eyes, sighing a little as the muscles relaxed, the pain easing up to something more managable. "That's good. Thanks."

"Anytime, hon." Anthony lightly patted House's leg. "I'll meet you in the lobby. Just call me when you're ready.

"Will do." House wrapped a hand around Anthony's neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss just as the office door swung open.

Foreman stopped short when he came upon the pair, clearing his throat. "Got those test results you wanted to look at."

House looked them over, a slow smile taking over his rough features. "That's kind of what I thought. You already started treatment?"

"As soon as we got the results." Foreman nodded. "So far she seems to be improving."

"Hubby ever show up?"

Foreman shook his head. "Hadley's still trying to contact him."

"Huh." House pondered the situation, then pushed himself out of his chair and picked up his backpack. "Think I'll go clean up and go to lunch, if that's okay with you."

Foreman rolled his eyes. "You know it is. Just go."

House grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, Anthony easily catching up with him. "Back in a while."

The two men boarded the elevator, and House punched the button for the floor containing the locker rooms. "I shouldn't be too long." House lightly squeezed Anthony's fingers as he stepped off. "Call you in a few."

Anthony briefly squeezed back before House released his fingers and went on his way, popping in his ear buds and turning on his I-Pod. He grinned as the opening chords of 'Sunshine of Your Love' started, cranking it up as the elevator doors closed, carrying him to the lobby.

He stepped off, finding a bench to sit on, pulling out his book. A shadow crossed over him, and the achingly familiar scent of Polo washed over him. He quickly pulled out his ear buds and looked up to see a very rough looking Drew sitting next to him.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"My wife's been sick, and she was sent here. Your gimpy old boyfriend's been working on her." Drew narrowed his eyes at Anthony. "I tried to track you down last night. Where were you?"

"At home." Anthony answered in clipped tones. Normally he would have gone to the bar with Simon, but he just hadn't been up to it last night. Instead, he and Simon had hung out and had dinner at Anthony's, just catching up with each other and enjoying each other's company.

"Oh." Drew's eyes seemed to be looking far off into the distance. Anthony turned, seeing the same thing Drew did. House was limping heavily toward them, his sunglasses already over his face, trying to hide his tired eyes.

House lifted his shades when he saw Drew as he gently grasped Anthony's shoulder. "Looks like your wife's going to live. Congratulations." House intoned mildly.

"Really?" Drew's facial expression barely changed. "So what was it?"

"Turns out it wasn't anything you did." House sounded almost disappointed. "She had a parasite that spread from her stomach to a few other organs, including her brain. We've got her on an anti-parasitic that seems to be doing the job." He fixed Drew with a steely glare. "Now go see her. I'm sure she'd _love_ to see you."

Drew rose from the bench, his eyes glancing between House and Anthony. Finally he extended a hand to House. "I suppose I should thank you."

"Don't bother thanking me. I'm not the one that found it." House reluctantly shook the hand Drew offered. "Have a nice life."

After Drew left, Anthony shuddered a little. "That bitch was trying to hunt me down while his wife was dying. Unbelievable."

House chuckled and squeezed Anthony's shoulder before releasing it. "Enough about him. I believe you said something about buying me lunch."

"That I did." Anthony could smell House as the older man walked close to him, his familiar woodsy scent filling his nose.

"Good. I'm starving."

They strode out the double doors, the bright sunlight hitting their faces, Drew and rough nights and difficult cases behind them. Right now, none of it mattered as they made their way across the street. A good lunch and each other's company seemed to be all they needed right now.

# # #

**Now it's up to you. Read and review. :)**


	27. Chapter 27

**One more before the end of the weekend. As usual, I don't own anyone but Anthony and Michaels. House and crew belong to David Shore.**

# # #

House and Anthony slid into the booth at the deli, and Anthony picked up a menu to look it over. He glanced across the table at House, who merely looked at him with a neutral expression.

"You want a menu?" Anthony offered.

House's eyes crinkled up as he reached across the table, lightly tracing random patterns on the back of Anthony's hand. "I already know what I want."

"Is that right?" Anthony was equally amused.

"Sure." House's mouth curled up in a small smile. "Dry Reuben, no pickles, and fries."

Anthony rolled his eyes and turned over his hand, lightly grasping House's fingers. "You're kind of goofy when you don't get much sleep."

"Don't worry." House told him. "A few hours of sleep and I'll be back to my usual asshole self."

"I hope not." Anthony caressed House's hand. "I...kind of like this side of you."

House could feel the heat rising in his cheeks at Anthony's words. "Yeah, well..."

The waitress showed up to take their orders, a bright smile on her young face. "Nice to see you two again. What can I get you?"

They gave her their orders, and the waitress briskly walked away, leaving the two men alone once again. House leaned across the table, puzzled. "What does she mean, 'again'?"

"She waited on us the first time we came in here." Anthony's eyes crinkled up at the memory.

"Good memory." House shook his head.

"I have a thing for faces." Anthony answered. "Besides, it wasn't that long ago."

Anthony made a good point. It had only been a couple of weeks or so since their first meeting...no, _date_. House was more comfortable with the idea now. He chuckled at the memory. "Guess I was too nervous to notice the waitress."

"You and me both. About the nerves, I mean."

House was surprised. "You?"

"Mm-hm." Anthony reached across the table to trace his finger along the veins in House's hand. "I wasn't sure you were going to show up." He paused, covering House's hand with his own. "But I'm very glad you did."

"Me too." House leaned on one elbow, his chin in his hand as he looked across at Anthony. "You ever live with anyone?"

The question caught Anthony off guard. "Kind of soon to be asking that, don't you think?"

"Don't be an idiot." House snarked and rolled his eyes. "I'm just curious."

"Which means you've at least thought about it." Anthony grinned.

"There's no way in hell I could live with someone right now, if ever." House's voice dropped to a low tone. "I've been there and done that."

Anthony tilted his head, the grin fading from his face. "So...what are you really asking me?"

"If you've ever lived with anyone, duh." House seemed to be avoiding Anthony's eyes.

"Okay, I'll play along." Anthony huffed and sat back against the seat of the booth. "Aside from roommates in college...no, I've never lived with anyone."

"Why?"

"I don't know..." Anthony laughed nervously. "Guess I never met anyone worth the trouble."

"So you're not big on commitment." House looked somber and thoughtful. "Huh."

"I didn't say that." Anthony shot back, a little defensive. "Just because I've never shacked up with someone doesn't mean I don't do commitment."

House was silent for a moment, drumming his fingers on the table. Finally a short sigh broke the silence. "Stacy and I lived together for five years. Thought about marrying her, even."

"What happened?"

"The leg." House stated simply. "Not just the leg, but...everything that came after."

Anthony reached out again, covering House's drumming fingers with his hand. He could see how difficult this was for House. He was worn down, his defenses weak at best, and Anthony just wanted to keep this line of communication open for as long as he could.

House drew in a shaky breath, scared to keep going, but knowing there was no going back now that he had opened the door. "Stacy...she...betrayed me. She did something she knew I didn't want. That's how I ended up with the chunk of muscle taken out of my leg and this incredibly sexy scar."

He was starting to deflect, Anthony knew, but he didn't know how to encourage House to keep going, or if he even should.

The waitress made his decision for him as she set their plates in front of them, smiling a little at both of them. "I'm so glad you two came in here again. You're a very cute couple."

She walked away, and the tension immediately melted as Anthony and House both dissolved in laughter, Anthony's snort matched by House's mellow chuckle.

"So we're a couple, huh?" Anthony relaxed and took a bite of his BLT.

"She seems to think we are." House responded carefully, reaching across to steal a fry from Anthony's plate. "So...are we?"

"I thought we were." Anthony arched an eyebrow at House. "Are you okay with that?"

House chewed thoughtfully, and he finally swallowed and nodded. "I think so. For now, anyway."

Anthony tilted his head again, taking in House's words. "So you just assume I'm going to let you down."

"Or that I'll let you down." House pointed out. "Of the two possibilities, I'd say the second one's more likely."

"Greg, people let each other down in a million small ways all the time." Anthony reasoned. "It doesn't mean they love each other any less."

House twisted his mouth. "I don't know about that. And it's not like you'd know."

"Ouch." Anthony glared at House. "That wasn't necessary. Or true."

House huffed in frustration. "We shouldn't be having this conversation right now. I'm fucking beat." He roughly reached out for Anthony's hand, stroking it.

Anthony's lips tweaked slightly. "We'll...come back to this. Sounds like we've got a lot to talk about."

They finished lunch, moving on to other idle chat as they ate. Anthony picked up the check and they went to the counter, where their waitress was wiping down the counter as Anthony paid the cashier.

"Have a good day, guys." She waved cheerfully as they left. "Hope to see you soon."

The younger man smiled and waved as the older one simply nodded. The older man seemed to lean on his cane while he grasped the younger one's shoulder for extra support.

"You okay back there?"

"Yeah." The older man nodded. "Just...sore, tired, running on no sleep. You know, the usual."

Their voices faded as the door swung closed behind them, and the waitress couldn't help but sigh to herself just a little. Somehow she suspected from the first time they walked in here that they would end up together. Even then they just seemed to click. The waitress hoped that she would see them in here for a long time to come.

# # #

The double doors whooshed open and the two men crossed the lobby in silence, making their way to the elevator.

Anthony tentatively reached out to touch House on the shoulder. Their touching in the deli was one thing, but Anthony wasn't sure House would allow that to carry over to his place of work. The deli offered him a certain anonymity that he didn't have here. "Hey...I'm going to check in on things, then probably head back to the office."

House's lips twitched in a brief smile at the touch. "The office, huh?"

"Yes." Anthony chuckled. "Are you getting out of here soon?"

"Don't know yet." House glanced at the approaching elevator. "Depends on how things are going."

"Well...if you need anything..." Anthony's voice trailed off, trying to find the balance between concern and respectful distance.

"I'll let you know." House's face softened into a slight smile. The elevator dinged as it arrived at the ground floor, and Anthony felt a hand at the small of his back and the light brush of House's lips on his cheek before he disappeared into the crowd. House gave him the briefest wave as the doors closed, that same soft expression crossing his rough features.

Next to him on the elevator, House heard the soft laugh and smelled the floral perfume of Cuddy. He cringed, knowing he'd been busted.

"Relax, House." She spoke softly. "I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who noticed that."

He could feel a bit of heat rise in his cheeks, and Cuddy chuckled again. "At any rate...I talked to Foreman earlier."

_Ruh-roh._ "Is that right?"

"Mm-hm." Cuddy fixed him with a warm smile. "Seems like the two of you worked very well together. Nicely done."

"Thanks." House mumbled and looked at the floor, thumping his cane.

Cuddy bent so that she managed to catch House's eyes. "I mean it. You guys busted your ass on this one. Now go get your things together and get out of here. I'll see you in the morning."

House wasn't quite ready to be dismissed so easily, even though he was whipped beyond all reason. "Got a few things to do first."

"Of course." Cuddy stepped off on the floor before his. "Just don't hang around too long. Wouldn't want to see you get roped into clinic duty."

"Yeah, that'll happen." House muttered as he rode up to the next floor. He had practically made a second career out of avoiding clinic duty, and he saw no reason not to continue that trend.

He limped heavily off the elevator, briefly considering stopping by Wilson's office before dismissing the idea. His brain was too fried to put together much in the way of a coherent thought, as his convoluted conversation with Anthony at the deli had proved.

As soon as he walked into his office, Foreman met him with the parasite patient's file in his hand. "You want to look this over before I sign off on it?"

"Sure." House pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket, automatically ready to sign his name. He froze, huffing in irritation as he put it back, reading over the file before handing it back to the neurologist. "Looks good."

Foreman glanced at House as he signed the file. "You'll be bitching about doing this again before too long, you know that."

"Oh, probably." House answered as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Then I'll just shove it off on you anyway."

Foreman chuckled. "Some things never change, do they?" He frowned as House picked up his helmet. "You okay to ride?"

"Yes. Now quit bugging me." House limped away, pushing his way through the office door and down to the elevators, where Wilson was waiting. House groaned and rolled his eyes.

"There you are." Wilson fixed him with a concerned look. "I was looking for you earlier."

"Two week anniversary lunch with Tony." House mockingly batted his eyelashes at Wilson. "He's so romantic."

Wilson snorted and shook his head. "So you solved your case, then."

"It was a team effort." House continued his slightly mocking tone as he followed Wilson onto the elevator. "You know they won't let me play by myself yet."

"Right." They fell into silence, riding a couple more floors before the elevator stopped again. A few people climbed on, Michaels among them.

"Hello, James." She smiled and squeezed Wilson's hand. "House."

House merely nodded and put on his sunglasses, waving a hand dismissively. "You two chat. I'll just be...here."

Wilson eased away from House so that he was closer to Michaels. "So...what are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing much." She answered. "What did you have in mind?"

"Aside from the obvious?" Wilson teased. "I thought we could do dinner and a movie. There's a new Italian place near the theater."

"That sounds lovely." Michaels smiled warmly. "Touch base with me before you leave and we'll work it out."

The elevator stopped at the ground floor and the crowd piled out, Wilson following Michaels. He placed a hand on the small of her back and kissed her forehead. "I've got clinic duty. Call you later."

She placed her hand at his waist in return, thrilled by Wilson's sudden show of affection. "See you soon."

Wilson watched her go, enamored by the way her soft red hair hung around her shoulders, swaying as she walked. He shook his head and looked around for House, but the older man was long gone, as Wilson had suspected he would be.

He chuckled and turned toward the clinic, briefly putting House out of his mind as he planned out his upcoming evening with Michaels. What a lovely addition she had been to his life. While she would never replace Amber in his mind and his heart, she was slowly creating her own place. It felt so good, so right, and it was a feeling he never wanted to let go.

House seemed to be feeling something similar, despite his mocking comments earlier. Things were still a little off kilter between them, which was still troubling to Wilson. Eventually he would find a way to make time to talk to him. He needed House to know that he mattered, that he was still an important part of his life. He suspected House needed to know that, too.

# # #

House let himself into Anthony's apartment after a quick stop at his own place. He had considered staying home, but decided that he just wanted to pick a spot and crash there. Anthony's place seemed like the better alternative just then.

He changed into a pair of flannel sleep pants and climbed into the soft bed, taking in the already familiar scent. His mind slowly drifted back to their conversation in the deli. Why did he ask Anthony about living with someone? What sort of answer was he expecting, anyway?

House thought it was a little odd that a guy like Anthony had managed to maintain his solo act for so long. Most people had experience with some form of long term commitment by middle age, and Anthony was definitely approaching that stage of life, never mind how many cracks House made about his age. Hell, Anthony had a couple years on Wilson, and Wilson had been married three times already.

His tired brain was having trouble putting the pieces together, and House decided it didn't matter right now anyway. All he wanted to do was sink deeply into sleep, and he wrapped the covers around himself, creating a sort of cocoon. The combination of the soothing warmth and Anthony's scent soon had him closing his eyes, and he felt himself drift away, his breathing deepening as he fell asleep.

He awoke some time later to the feel of someone shaking his shoulder. "Greg? Greg...wake up."

"Huh?" House felt distinctly disoriented, turning his head toward the source of the voice. Dreams and reality were blending, and House was having a difficult time distinguishing between the two.

"Over here, hon. It's Tony." Anthony was rubbing House between his shoulder blades. "Sounded like you were having one hell of a dream."

"Something like that." House mumbled. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here." Anthony suppressed a small chuckle.

It was all coming back to House now. "I knew that." He grumbled into the pillow. "I was just testing you."

"Sure you were." Anthony patted House on the back before pushing himself off the bed. "I'm going to start dinner. See you in a while."

"Not so fast." House wrapped his arm around Anthony's waist, pulling him close.

"Let me guess...you're not really hungry." Anthony climbed under the covers, the warmth seeping into him.

House smirked, his blue eyes crinkling. "Insert heavily cliched answer here." He rolled over onto his back, taking Anthony with him and pulling him into a long, sweet kiss, rolling his tongue around in the younger man's mouth. House's hands found their way under Anthony's thermal shirt, rubbing his back before pushing the shirt up and over Anthony's head, carelessly tossing it aside and moving his hands to run his fingers through the rough hair of his chest and stomach.

Anthony moaned softly and broke away from House's mouth, pressing kisses along the older man's jaw, the extra day's growth tearing at his lips as he did so. He took House's earlobe in his mouth, rolling it around in his mouth, nipping at it before releasing it, evoking a sharp gasp from House as he arched his neck, exposing his long throat.

Anthony took full advantage, leaving a slow trail with lips and tongue from the space between his earlobe and his jaw, working his way down the side of his throat, ending where his neck met his collarbone. House squirmed under him, clutching the back of Anthony's neck as the younger man continued down his chest, his hands brushing over his nipples on their way down his ribcage, settling around his waist. Anthony's lips weren't far behind, still trailing down House's stomach, stopping just above the waist of his pants, lingering there until he felt House's hand curl in his hair, his body arching upward, a ragged growl escaping him.

He moved on to untie House's pants, pulling down the waist band just enough to taste the skin underneath, tracing a line from hip to hip with his lips and tongue. House was barely coherent now, completely lost in the touch of Anthony's mouth, and he insistently pushed Anthony's head downward.

The younger man grinned, slipping House's pants off him, pressing his lips closer to his center, stroking down the inside of his thighs with his hands. He could feel the older man tense as he brushed over his scar, but he otherwise didn't react aside from the series of gasps that he emitted.

He finally took House in his mouth, evoking a sharp gasp of surprise and pleasure from him. House violently arched his back, coming undone as Anthony's tongue rolled over him, groaning as he came back down, blowing out a long puff of air as he finally relaxed his grip on Anthony's hair.

"Goddammit, man." House roughly stroked the top of Anthony's head. "What the fuck _was_ that?"

Anthony pulled himself up to straddle House, bending down to capture his lips in a long kiss. "Can't pull out all my tricks at once, you know."

House chuckled, wrapping his arms around Anthony, sliding his hands down to rest on his backside, pressing his lips to his shoulder. "Don't know if I can top that."

"No need to." Anthony murmured, relaxing into the sensation of House's lips on his skin.

House awkwardly flipped Anthony on his back, catching Anthony completely off guard as he tenderly pressed a series of kisses along Anthony's collarbone, lingering at the space between before lightly tracing his fingers down his chest to his belt buckle. House's eyes never left Anthony's face as he carefully undid the belt and jeans, sliding them and his boxers off his body, watching Anthony's reactions to his touch.

Anthony touched House's hands, gently guiding them where he wanted them to go as House eased himself over him, pressing kisses all over before running his tongue along Anthony's length, evoking a soft, shaky sigh from the younger man.

Encouraged, House moved on to take him in fully, seductively working over him, bringing him right to the edge before easing off, building the pleasure up in waves until Anthony couldn't take anymore, wrapping his legs around House as he went over, softly stroking House's head as he relaxed under him.

"Mmm...done now." Anthony stretched out across the bed as House climbed back up to lay next to him, lightly stroking Anthony along his stomach, evoking a squeak from the younger man. "Greg!"

House snickered, an evil glint developing in his blue eyes. "What's the matter?" He touched Anthony even more lightly, barely tracing a finger down his stomach, making him squirm in discomfort. "Someone's ticklish..."

Anthony howled in laughter as House found more ticklish spots, even blowing a raspberry on the younger man's stomach. They finally collapsed against each other, relaxing as they recovered, each of them grinning like fools.

House lay across Anthony, studying the younger man's face, tracing the contours with his long fingers. Anthony met his eyes, arching an eyebrow. "Something on your mind?"

"Always." House answered. He rested his chin on his hands, which still lay across Anthony's chest. "I haven't had this much fun in bed since..."

"Stacy?"

"Not even then." House's voice went soft. "And I don't just mean the sex. I mean...this." He went in for one more tickle, making Anthony squeak in surprise. "And that."

Anthony shifted, gently pushing House off of him to get a good look at him. "Would now be a better time to have that whole relationship talk thing?"

House rolled his eyes. "Way to kill a moment, Romeo."

"Sorry." Anthony almost looked offended.

"How about we talk over dinner?" House offered. "I'm a little better at this stuff on a full stomach."

"I'm going to hold you to that." Anthony warned.

"Thought you might." House grumbled, pushing himself off Anthony, giving him a nudge. "Best get moving. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can get this talking thing over with."

Anthony snorted as he started dressing. He didn't expect to get a lot out of House tonight, but at least it was a start. As long as they were moving forward, he'd take it.

# # #

**Okay, now it's up to you. Read and review. :)**


	28. Chapter 28

**Yay, we're up and running again! :D You know the deal by now. I don't own House, just Anthony.**

# # #

House awoke once again to the sound of pans and dishes clattering in the kitchen as Anthony worked on dinner. Funny, he didn't remember falling asleep again. He pulled the covers around him, recreating the cocoon of comfort and warmth from earlier, taking a deep inhale of their combined scents as he closed his eyes again.

Eventually the smells from the kitchen beat out the warmth of the covers, and House threw them back to find his flannel pants, tugging them over his body and going in search of his t-shirt. He found it in the pile of clothes near the bed, chuckling as he noticed Anthony's shirt and jeans crumpled nearby.

He made his way down the hallway, foregoing his cane for the time being as he followed the smells coming out of the kitchen. Anthony was moving around the kitchen, listening to music and humming to himself as he put together the meal. House leaned against the doorframe of the hallway, watching him, fascinated by his precise, efficient movements. It was almost like watching a skilled surgeon at work, and it stirred up some unknown emotion in House.

House had observed others in the kitchen over the years. His mom, a model of calm and efficiency as she timed everything to be ready at precisely the moment his father walked in the door at night. Wilson, bringing his obsessive nature to the kitchen, poring over cookbooks, measuring, frowning, making sure whatever he was working on was _perfect_ before unleashing it on House. Stacy...well, never mind. The woman was no expert in the kitchen, far better at dialing a phone than she was at working a stove. If House remembered correctly, most of the time he didn't really mind.

Which brought him to Anthony. The younger man seemed to genuinely enjoy the process of putting a meal together, relaxing as he chopped, stirred, and tasted, humming and singing along with whatever song was playing on his I-Pod. He brought joy and passion to the process, much like he did to other parts of his life.

House amended his earlier assessment of Anthony. It was less like watching a skilled surgeon and more like watching an artist create a new work of art, the entire creative process unfolding in front of him.

The artist in question suddenly looked up from the stove, arching an eyebrow at House. "It lives." Anthony teased. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay." House pushed himself away from the door frame and lumbered to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer for himself. "You want one of these?"

"Already working on one." Anthony took a pull from the beer on the counter before returning to stir the pan on the stove.

House chuckled as he limped up behind him, looking over Anthony's shoulder. "Drinking and cooking...should you be doing that?"

"I don't know, you tell me." Anthony suddenly turned around to put a spoonful of sauce in House's mouth.

House rolled it around in his mouth, savoring the flavor before finally swallowing. "As you were."

"That's what I thought." Anthony looked smug as he turned back toward the stove. Whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by the ringing of the cordless phone next to him. He tucked it between his ear and shoulder as he answered it. "Hello?" His face took on a resigned expression. "Hi, Mom."

House smirked, leaning against the counter, listening to Anthony's end of the conversation. His voice took on an overly patient tone as they chatted, and Anthony seemed to get a little more flustered as the conversation continued. Finally he turned around, motioning to House for plates and silverware.

"Yes, Mom, I know." Anthony looked exasperated at whatever his mother was going on about. "Gotta go now. I've got company for dinner." He glanced over at House as he set the plates and silverware on the counter with a clatter. "No, someone new. Met him a couple weeks ago." His lips quirked up in amusement. "I don't know, Mom. Too soon to tell. Anyway, really. I've got to go. I'm _literally_ about to burn dinner...Okay, love you too. Bye."

Anthony shook his head as he pushed the button to hang up the phone, shutting off the stove. He could feel House's eyes on him, the bright blue eyes studying him as he grabbed a plate and a fork from the counter. "Look, I know you're dying to say something. Spit it out already."

"Nope." House took his own plate, dishing up pasta and sauce, picking up his beer and limping out to the living room. Anthony followed close behind, veering off to the large window just off the living room. "Whoa, where are you going?"

Anthony shrugged. "Thought we'd eat out on the balcony. Might as well enjoy the weather while we have it."

House was puzzled, but followed Anthony outside anyway. The sun was setting as they settled into the deck chairs, silverware clinking on plates and the occasional car passing by the only sounds.

In the growing twilight, House could hear Anthony set his plate aside with a sigh. There was a click and a brief flash of flame, followed by the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. House turned his head to see Anthony leaned back in his chair, the end of the cigarette glowing as he took a long drag, tilting his chin upwards as he exhaled the long stream of smoke into the cool evening air.

"You know how you accused me of not doing commitment?" Anthony suddenly asked.

"Uh, yeah." House rolled his eyes and set his plate on top of Anthony's. "You damn near took my head off for it."

"Anyway." Anthony glared at House as he flicked the ash off his cigarette. "My mom...every time I tell her about some new guy, it's the same line." He made a face clearly meant to mimic his mother. "'So...is this the one?'" Anthony shook his head as he took another long drag. "I swear, you bust out that line one time, and it gets used against you forever. And before you ask, no, it wasn't Drew."

"Wasn't even thinking that." House mumbled as he took a long pull of his beer. He hated that Anthony seemed to be able to read him so well.

Anthony fixed him with a skeptical look. "Yeah...anyway. My brother's been married and divorced a couple of times, my sister's been married to this pathetic idiot forever, and my mom..._tolerated_ my father. And my mom still wonders why the hell I'm in no hurry to settle down."

House snorted softly. "She's aware that you're not going to find some nice _girl_, right?"

"Oh, yeah." Anthony rolled his eyes. "But you know moms. She just wants me to be 'happy'. Apparently I can only do that with a 'partner' of the live-in variety."

"Have to admit, it is kind of odd that you haven't by now." House observed.

"Why?" Anthony countered. "You haven't either."

"Yeah, but I have a million good reasons." House replied. "I'm a cranky, misanthropic old bastard who pushes anyone and everyone away. At least, that's what the shrinks tell me." He drained his beer before continuing. "You're young...er, better looking, and you actually like other people. What's your problem?"

Anthony stubbed out his cigarette with a long sigh. "I'm a selfish bastard, my mother spoiled me, and I'll never be happy until I get everything my way."

House tilted his head, closing one eye. "That sounds very...fatherly."

"Doesn't it?" Anthony polished off the last of his beer and set it on the table next to him, taking another cigarette out of his pack and glancing at House. "Sounds like something you know about."

"Nice try, Slick." House snorted, rising from the chair and limping inside.

_Dammit._ Anthony thought as he put the cigarette back in the pack and rose to follow House inside. House was back in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he popped the cap off another beer. A storm was brewing in those blue eyes, and Anthony carefully leaned on the counter that separated the kitchen and living room, not sure what to say next.

House took a long drink of his beer before setting it on the counter beside him, picking up the cap and fiddling with it. Finally the storm seemed to pass, and he puffed his cheeks out, looking thoughtful before breaking the silence. "I've already got a shrink. I don't need one in my bed." He tilted his head, pondering his statement. "Well...technically _your _bed, but you get the idea."

Anthony twisted his fingers and glanced down at his hands. "I wasn't trying to analyze you. The conversation just seemed to be going that way."

House huffed in irritation and crossed the kitchen to lean across the counter that separated him and Anthony. "Believe it or not, I've told you a hell of a lot more than I've told most people. But the dad thing..." House looked away, shaking his head. "Not going to happen."

"Fair enough." Anthony reached across the counter, offering his hand. House gave him a slightly distrustful look, but reluctantly took Anthony's outstretched hand. "Guess I'll keep my family issues to myself from now on."

"You don't have to do that." House grumbled. "Just because I don't want to talk about this stuff doesn't mean you can't." He lightly stroked the back of Anthony's hand, a slightly amused expression crossing his face. "Although...I make kind of a crappy confidant."

"Maybe I don't need a confidant." Anthony countered. "Maybe I just needed someone to vent to just then." He lifted House's hand to his mouth, leaving a gentle kiss in the palm. "It's still early. Got time for another beer and some more balcony time if you want it."

"Already have the beer." House withdrew his hand and rounded the counter on his way outside, lightly smacking Anthony on the rear as he passed by.

Anthony jumped in surprise, then shook his head as he grabbed another beer for himself. This evening wasn't going anything like he'd planned. He was quickly learning that _nothing_ went as planned when he was spending time with House. It definitely kept things interesting, mostly in a good way. The rest of it, he'd just learn to roll with. There was nothing else he could do.

# # #

House was lost in thought out on the balcony when he heard the door slide open and felt something soft and heavy drop in his lap. He turned his head to see Anthony pulling a gray hooded sweatshirt over his head before he eased himself into the chair next to him. House couldn't help but notice his cane leaning against the chair. Anthony must have brought it with him when he brought out the sweatshirt.

He picked up the object in his lap, recognizing the heavy black hooded sweatshirt from the previous weekend. As he pulled it over his head, House took in the familiar scents, and by the time he had it on, a small smile had found its way onto his face. Wearing the sweatshirt was oddly comforting, almost like...no, he wasn't going to go there. That would be too sentimental, and that wasn't House's thing.

Still...sitting out here on the balcony, the night surrounding them with nothing but the occasional car passing by...it all felt so oddly right. Even the silence seemed comfortable instead of lonely. House had spent so many years alone that he was sure he was used to the silence that accompanied it.

And he was used to it. That didn't mean it was a good thing. What was happening now, on the other hand...he liked it, even as he had difficulty getting used to it. House didn't want to get too comfortable. He knew all too well that it could all disappear in a heartbeat. One wrong word, one wrong move, and he would be right back where he started.

He couldn't let that happen. Anthony had already become too damned important to him. He let out a rough sigh, glancing over at Anthony. The younger man was stretched out in the chair, sipping at his beer with his long legs stretched out in front of him, looking completely relaxed.

Anthony turned his head at the sound, noticing House slumped down in the other chair. His arms seemed to be wrapped around himself, almost as if he were trying to close himself off from the world.

Anthony decided to go for the direct approach. He rose from the chair and moved to bend down in front of House, landing on one knee while resting his forearms across House's knees, looking him directly in the eye.

House was startled at first, then fixed Anthony with a small smirk. "I like where this is going already."

"Don't deflect." Anthony responded quietly, with a small smile at House's joking comment. "Just...talk to me. What's going on?"

"Just thinking." House shrugged. He was silent for a long moment, the light from the streetlamps highlighting his brooding expression. It was obvious to Anthony that House was struggling with something, and it would only be a matter of time before it finally came out.

Anthony turned around, sitting on the cool floor of the balcony and leaning against the chair between House's legs. He hooked one arm around House's calf, placing his hand on his shin, and the two men continued to sit in silence.

House shifted with a long sigh, unfolding himself to drop his arms over Anthony's chest to wrap around him, all but burying his face in the space between Anthony's shoulder and neck. He was convinced that he would have stayed in his self-imposed shell were it not for Anthony's touch. It was more powerful than any words the younger man could have spoken.

"You know about my track record with guys, right?" House started.

Anthony nodded, recalling the conversation. "I assume there's more to this."

"My track record with women isn't much better."

"What's your point?" Anthony turned his head, his lips nearly touching House's cheek.

"I just don't want to fuck this up." House's voice came out rough.

"That makes two of us."

"I'm serious." House's tone turned sharp, almost angry.

"So am I." Anthony reached up to caress House's face, lightly pressing his lips to his cheek.

"You don't get it." House murmured, closing his eyes at the feel of Anthony's fingers and lips on his face. His old walls were crumbling faster than he could put up new ones, and he could feel himself losing the fight to keep those walls intact. He wasn't even sure it was worth the fight anymore.

"Maybe I do." Anthony turned slightly so that he faced House, and House shifted so he sat back in the chair once again. "You know what I was really doing in that bar the night we met?"

"Besides trying to pick me up?"

"Yes, besides that." Anthony chuckled softly, draping himself across House's leg. "Drew had stopped by out of the blue. That never happened. We always had to plan pretty extensively on account of the wife." His voice went soft at the memory. "He didn't even come in. Just told me we were done, that he was recommitting himself to his marriage. After he left...I was...pissed, hurt, all that."

"So you decided to wander down to the bar and hit on the first thing that caught your eye?" House's voice turned sarcastic.

"Lucky for you, don't you think?" Anthony snapped back before taking a deep breath. "Sorry, but...damn, Greg. You don't think you're worthy of attention?"

House froze. How the hell had Anthony managed to turn this back around on him? "What the hell did I tell you about analyzing me?"

"I'm not." Anthony turned so that he directly faced House, still on his knees in front of him. They were hurting from pressing into the concrete of the balcony, but Anthony didn't give a damn. He was determined to get whatever point he was trying to make across to House. "Yes, aside from the bartender, yours was the first face I saw. You seemed like...you were having a tough time, too."

"And what would you have done if I hadn't...responded?" House nearly whispered.

"I don't know." Anthony's voice dropped in volume to match House's as he moved closer, their lips now nearly touching. "Glad I didn't have to find out."

"So...you just hit on me because you were pissed at Drew?" House couldn't quite get around that part of the story.

"Goddammit, Greg!" Anthony was getting increasingly frustrated with House as he pushed himself away and sprang to his feet, pacing around the small balcony. "Maybe I did, initially. I don't know. Why does it matter? It doesn't change how I feel about you _now_."

House huffed and slumped down in the chair. Maybe Anthony was right. Maybe it didn't matter how things started. Maybe the only thing that mattered was now.

He finally pushed himself out of the chair, limping over to catch Anthony mid-pace, easily trapping the younger man between himself and the railing. "Maybe...I'm being a little rough on you."

Anthony stopped his pacing, closing his eyes as he felt House's lips touch his neck. He reached out to grasp the railing. "It wasn't just because of Drew, you know."

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to you, which means it _does_ matter." Anthony turned around and wrapped his arms around House's waist.

The words stirred up some unknown emotion in House. It was something that was happening more and more around Anthony. "No one's ever told me that before." He choked out as he nearly crushed Anthony in his arms, a shaky breath escaping him.

Anthony merely held him tighter, lightly rubbing the older man's lower back. "Maybe it's time someone did."

"Maybe." House muttered, a shiver running through him. Whether it was the cooling night air or Anthony's touch, House wasn't sure. "So...we're okay?"

"Of course." Anthony was puzzled. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Don't know." House cursed himself for his fit of insecurity.

Anthony smiled a little to himself, stepping back and rubbing House's arms. "Look, you're a little temperamental, and I'm a little touchy. We're going to blow up at each other sometimes. It's hardly the end of the world." He squeezed House's arms affectionately. "And it doesn't mean I'm going to abandon you."

"Yeah...that's what she said, too...just before she left." House sighed roughly, turning away. He picked up his beer and his cane and started to slide open the balcony door.

Anthony leaned against the railing, watching him for a moment before sighing sadly, picking up the cigarette pack on the table, pulling one out and lighting up. He took a long drag, exhaling loudly before taking a long drink of his beer.

He stubbed out the cigarette and strode into the apartment, looking around for House. House's backpack, jacket, and shoes were still near the door where he had dumped them earlier, so Anthony knew he hadn't left.

It was a small apartment, so it wasn't as if there were that many places to hide. Anthony locked the door and turned out lights as he shut down the place for the night. He made his way into the bedroom, turning on the light, noting the House-sized lump that was curled up in his bed.

Anthony turned out the light and curled up behind House, taking in the older man's scent. House immediately tensed and scooted away, curling himself into an even tighter ball. "Back off, boy." He growled, a rough mix of anger and some other emotion that Anthony couldn't identify.

"Not happening." Anthony firmly held on to House. "You try to scoot much further and you'll fall right out of this bed."

"Then I'll sleep on the damn floor."

"Oh stop it." Anthony refused to relinquish his hold on House. "If you're trying to push me away, you're doing a really crappy job of it."

Anthony could feel House's body shake next to him as he tried to hold back whatever was coming out. He relaxed his grip on House, scooting away just enough to rub the older man between his shoulder blades as he waited for him to calm down.

House sighed heavily, finally rolling over to face Anthony, grateful for the darkness that hid the evidence of his emotional outburst. "Stubborn ass." He grumbled as he laid his head on Anthony's chest, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Have to be to keep up with you." Anthony laughed softly as he stroked House's head. "And feel free to quit testing me. I don't plan on going anywhere."

"Well no, of course not." House snarked. "You live here, remember?"

"Not what I meant and you know it." Anthony planted a gentle kiss on the top of House's head.

House was quiet for a long moment, shifting so that he lay alongside Anthony, staring down at him, lightly stroking the younger man's face. "You know...this could all end tomorrow, and I'll be right back where I started."

"And where would that be?" Anthony almost wished he hadn't asked, not sure what sort of reaction he would get from House.

The older man lay his head back on Anthony's chest, oddly soothed by the sound of his even breathing and steady heartbeat. "Alone. Lonely. Fucking miserable."

"You wouldn't be the only one." Anthony answered softly, pulling House closer to him.

House was baffled. "Seriously?"

"You sound surprised." Anthony chuckled a little. "Of course I'm serious. You didn't think this was all one-sided, did you?"

"Maybe."

Anthony shifted slightly, trying to make out House's face in the darkness. "You are a mess. A fascinating, beautiful, passionate, infinitely interesting mess."

He thought he saw House's mouth form something like a smile. "Was there a compliment in there somewhere? I might have missed it."

Anthony pushed House over to his back, nearly crushing his lips with a raging, passionate kiss. House slipped his hands to Anthony's back, pulling him in, not wanting to let him go. They finally broke apart, and Anthony regarded the older man with amusement. "Did you catch the compliment that time?"

"Hmmm...not sure." House responded softly. "It's an idea that warrants further...exploration, don't you think?"

"Why not?" Anthony chuckled, moving in for another kiss. For now, at least, they seemed to have made some sort of breakthrough. How long it would last, neither of them knew. Right now, neither of them cared.

# # #

**You know what time it is. It's read and review time! :)**


	29. Chapter 29

**Insert my usual disclaimers here. I don't own House, Wilson, Cuddy, or Foreman. I do own Anthony and the other occasional wandering O/C.**

# # #

Anthony was sitting out on the balcony the next morning, relaxing with a cup of coffee and a book before heading to work. If everything went as it normally did, House wouldn't even be up and around before he left.

Last night had been a late one, but it hadn't been without reward, most definitely. Anthony's mouth curled up in a smile at the thought. For all his doubts about their relationship, House was quickly losing any shyness he might have had in the bedroom. It didn't take a genius to figure out that House channeled a good deal of his emotional expression through physical means. While it made for amazing sex, it worried Anthony somewhat that House had trouble expressing himself any other way.

He set his doubts aside for the moment and returned to his book and coffee, absentmindedly picking up his cigarette pack. House, much to his surprise, hadn't so much as batted an eyelash when he'd lit up. Anthony sighed in defeat as he fired it up, taking the bitter smoke into his lungs before exhaling forcefully. Three weeks. He'd made it almost three weeks this time before caving. After this pack...that was it. No more. He had no desire to go out like his father and grandmother.

"Those things will kill you, boy." House's rumbling voice cut into his thoughts. The older man limped heavily around the chair, setting down his coffee and easing slowly into the seat. He wore the black sweatshirt against the morning chill, but Anthony noticed he was barefoot.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He glanced over at House. "Aren't your feet cold, hon?" A smile played around Anthony's lips as he butted the cigarette and took another sip of his coffee.

House smirked as he wrapped his hands around the coffee mug, his long fingers completely hiding the mug from view. "Not as cold as you might think." He took a long drink from the mug, leaning forward in the chair, looking out over the street. A serious expression took over his face as he slipped deep into thought.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as the morning sun continued its journey upward, and Anthony finally drained the remains of his coffee and rose from his chair. He dropped a kiss on House's head as he passed. "I've got to go. Lock up on your way out."

House lifted his head and pushed himself out of the chair to follow, watching as Anthony packed up his bag for the day. He tapped his cane nervously on the floor, not sure how to express the thought that was running through his head. "You ever think that maybe...you _could_ live with someone?"

Anthony paused, a slow half smile creeping onto his face. "I think anything's possible, hon."

House's mouth twisted in frustration. "Not really the answer I was looking for."

Anthony left his bag and met House at the balcony door, gripping his upper arms and rubbing lightly. "I know you want a concrete, specific answer. I can't give you that right now." He ran his hands down to take House's. "As difficult as this is for you...this isn't exactly easy for me, either."

"I know." House's words came out harshly. "I'm not exactly the easiest guy to be around."

"That's not what I meant." Anthony moved closer, slipping his arms around House's waist. "I meant this whole _thing_ isn't easy for me, and it's got nothing to do with you."

House nodded, finally catching on. "Never in a million years did I think I'd let myself fall for a guy. Hell, I never figured I'd fall for _anyone_ again." He pulled Anthony close to him, wrapping his arms completely around him and kissing the top of his head. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to..." House pulled away, turning toward the balcony, frustrated with his inability to express himself. Why did this have to be so fucking difficult? He thumped his cane on the floor, so absorbed in his dark thoughts that he jumped when he felt Anthony's hands on him.

The younger man had come up behind him, wrapping his arms around House's waist and pressing his forehead to his back. "I think I kind of know what you mean." He sighed, just leaning against House. "The last guy I gave my heart to...well, you know how that turned out."

House's mouth quirked in a slight smirk. "We're one fucked up pair, you know that?"

"That we are." Anthony chuckled and lightly kissed the back of House's neck. "Good thing we've got each other."

"Yeah." House responded softly, tapping his cane against the floor. He turned his head, Anthony's words finally sinking in. "You really mean that?"

"I don't say things I don't mean." Anthony briefly squeezed House before releasing him. "And now I've really got to go. My first client shows up at nine."

"Yeah...I should get going anyway. Clinic duty awaits." House turned around, catching Anthony around the waist and pulling him in for a soft kiss. He quickly deepened the kiss, reluctant to let the younger man go. "Are you sure..."

"Yes." Anthony laughed, equally reluctant to pull away. "I'll see you around. Don't forget to lock up."

"Right." House let Anthony go, watching as he closed the door behind him. He huffed in frustration and limped into the kitchen for a second cup of coffee.

It was an odd relief to know that Anthony was having a hard time with their developing relationship, too. House felt a little bit less like he was in free fall, although things were still far from easy. As Anthony said, at least they had each other. There was something oddly comforting about that.

He drained the mug and set it in the sink before heading toward the bathroom. Clinic duty awaited him, and he also wanted to try to track down Wilson. Suddenly he felt the need to explain his recent behavior to the young oncologist, and perhaps get their friendship back on track. It seemed to have been suffering lately, for a million different reasons. Maybe he could even buy lunch. House snorted to himself at the idea. Wilson wouldn't know what to do with himself if House did that, which sort of made the whole idea even more appealing.

# # #

House was waiting for the elevator to arrive when he spotted a flustered Wilson come flying through the lobby. He checked his watch, grinning when the younger man came to a stop beside him, blowing out a long sigh.

"You're late." House noted mockingly. "Must have been one hot date. Where's the other guilty party?"

"None of your business." Wilson answered sharply, glancing over at House. He did a double take when he saw a small mark near the collar of his t-shirt. "Another hickey? For Christ's sake, you're fifty, not fifteen."

"I'm making up for lost time." House snarked back, making a mental note to have a little chat with Anthony about that. "Not my fault the man sucks like a Hoover."

Wilson merely rolled his eyes as they stepped onto the open elevator. He was too preoccupied with his own thoughts right now to be shocked by anything House had to say. "I think I'm falling in love with Lillian." He suddenly blurted out.

House raised his eyebrows, not at all surprised. "I'm surprised it took you this long."

Wilson leaned against the back wall of the elevator with a loud sigh. "I didn't think it would happen again after..."

"Amber." House huffed loudly, thumping his cane on the floor. "You can say her name, you know." He glanced at his friend, who was staring at the floor. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I don't know." Wilson answered softly. "Part of me is thrilled, part of me feels...disloyal."

"You can't carry a torch for Amber forever." House looked straight ahead, not sure how to handle Wilson's personal crisis. "Trust me, it doesn't do any good."

Wilson froze, remembering House's behavior when Stacy had stepped back into his life. "I know that. It's just..."

"Yeah. I know." House's mouth was twisted in an unfamiliar expression. "Love's a cold-hearted bitch, Wilson."

"Is it?" Wilson studied House carefully.

"No, not really." House's voice dropped as he stepped off the elevator. "You free for lunch?"

"Probably." Wilson nodded.

"Good." House nodded firmly in return. "I'm buying."

Wilson stood rooted to the floor in utter shock as he watched House limp toward his office. There was no way he heard House correctly. In the many years they had worked together, Wilson couldn't recall a time that House had _ever_ paid for their lunch. He wondered if this was one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse.

No, there had to be more to the story. Something seemed to be on House's mind, and Wilson wondered if they were going to pick up the thread of their conversation from the other day. Hopefully House was feeling a little less hopeless than he had sounded the last time they had talked. Wilson supposed he would just have to wait and find out.

# # #

House chuckled as he pushed through the door to his office, setting down his backpack and hanging up his jacket. In all the years he and Wilson had worked together, he had never known him to be late, even when he was screwing around on his wives. He was genuinely happy for his friend. He just wished Wilson was a little happier for himself.

Foreman poked his head into his office, breaking House's train of thought. "Cuddy didn't happen to hand you a case, did she?"

"Nope." House shook his head as he took a drink out of his travel mug.

"Damn." Foreman looked vaguely disappointed, squinting at what he thought was a mark on House. "Is that a..."

"Yes. It's what you think." House glared at him. "Don't you have clinic duty or something?"

Foreman gave House a smug look as he closed the conference room door behind him, putting on his lab coat and leaving for the elevator.

House smirked a bit to himself, taking a quick peek under the collar of his t-shirt. The mark was far more extensive than what both Wilson and Foreman had seen, and it was by no means the only one. Every little sensitive spot that Anthony had managed to find the night before was marked, almost as if Anthony was creating himself a road map to House's tender spots for future reference.

He took a moment to check his e-mail and play a few rounds of Minesweeper before pushing himself out of his chair and making his way to the clinic. Might as well get it over with before Cuddy came hunting him down. Besides, there was no telling what sort of case he could manage to dig up. It might be worth weeding through all the idiots if he found a diamond of a case.

The clinic wasn't exactly packed, and House started to turn around and leave. As he did so he bumped directly into Cuddy.

"You weren't planning on _leaving_, were you?" Cuddy regarded him with a cool smile, her arms folded across her chest.

"Not until just _now_, no." House huffed as he turned back around to sign in.

"That's what I thought." Cuddy turned to walk away, then stopped short, turning back around, touching her collarbone. "You've got a little something right here."

House smirked as he picked up a file. "So everyone keeps telling me." He limped past Cuddy with the file, deciding against giving her more details. While House imagined her reaction would be hilarious, he _was_ making some attempt to stay on her good side, at least until he had his department back under his control again.

He stepped into the exam room, where a young man sat on the table, swinging his legs nervously. House glanced at the file and then at the man.

"So...sore throat, huh?" House gave him a skeptical look. "Any fever?"

"No."

"Probably not strep, then. Open up and say 'ahh'."

The man complied, and House shined his penlight down the man's throat. He rolled his eyes as he shut off the light and shoved it back in his pocket. "Tell your...whoever to take it easy when he's shoving his thing down your throat."

The man looked shocked. "Excuse me?"

"Come on, now. Don't act surprised." House snapped back. "You have abrasions on the back of your throat, that's all. No attempts at deep throating for a few days and you'll be fine." House signed off on the file and handed it back to the patient. "Give this to the nurse on your way out."

The young man took the file with a bit of a smile, looking House up and down. "You...single?"

Now it was House's turn to be surprised. "Excuse me?"

"You just sound like you know a little something about this stuff, that's all." The patient glanced downward. "Thought maybe if you were available..."

House smirked in amusement. The guy was actually hitting on him. "I'm...kind of seeing someone."

"Oh." The man looked disappointed. "Sorry, thought you...went that way."

"I do." House spoke bluntly, surprising himself. "But I'm seeing someone." He swung the door to the exam room open, gesturing for the patient to leave. "Have a nice day."

House poked his head out, checking to see if anyone was in the waiting area. The place looked relatively empty, so he took the opportunity to duck back into the exam room.

He laid back on the exam table, analyzing the exchange between himself and the clinic patient. The guy had tried to hit on him, which was weird enough. What kind of guy would try to hit on the doctor that was examining him?

What surprised him even more was his own reaction. It made him wonder how he would describe his relationship with Anthony to other people. 'Boyfriend' didn't seem to fit, and House felt that both he and Anthony were too old for that term. 'Lover'? No, that just seemed...well, _gay_, for lack of a better word. 'Man-friend', as Wilson had half-jokingly referred to him...that would almost work.

A pounding at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. "With a patient!"

The door flew open, revealing an irritated Cuddy. "Your patient just left. The waiting room's filling up."

"Foreman's out there. Let him handle it."

"House..." Cuddy's voice took on a warning tone.

"Fine." House huffed, pushing himself off the exam table. "Just so you know...every idiot I drag through here drops my IQ by twenty points. If you're willing to risk my intelligence just to keep your precious clinic going..."

"I am." Cuddy gave him a pointed look. "Now get back out there."

"You'd never do Foreman like that." House grumbled as he picked up another file.

"That's because Foreman doesn't whine about doing his clinic hours."

"A mere technicality." House called out the next patient's name and gestured her to follow him.

As soon as House's back was turned, Cuddy allowed a small smile to creep onto her face as she returned to her office. She was relieved that House was more like his old self today, back to arguing with her over clinic duty. Soon he would be back to storming into her office with his outrageous demands and seemingly pointless arguments, at least, he would be if she had anything to say about it.

# # #

House finally managed to sign out a couple of hours later after working his way through the usual sore throats, stuffy noses, and STD tests. Nothing interesting had presented itself, but then again, he really hadn't expected that to be the case.

He rode the elevator upstairs, stepping off and turning toward Wilson's office. After some internal debate, House decided to knock instead of simply barging in.

"It's open." Wilson's voice carried through the other side of the door. He was surprised to see House come lumbering through his door. "What's with the knocking all of a sudden?"

House shrugged. "Just seems like...an idea whose time has come."

Wilson shot House a funny look, but didn't say anything as he put on his lab coat and followed his friend to the cafeteria. True to his word, House pulled out his debit card and handed it to the cashier, who merely arched an eyebrow at them.

House rolled his eyes as they took their lunch to one of the tables outside. "You'd think they've never seen a guy use a debit card before."

"No, they've never seen _you_ use one before." Wilson answered. "Probably didn't think you knew how to use one."

House scowled and stole one of Wilson's fries, and the two of them ate in relative silence. Finally Wilson couldn't stand it anymore, dabbing at his face with a napkin and facing House. "So...to what do I owe the pleasure of you buying me lunch?"

"No reason."

Wilson knew better, but didn't want to push House. It hadn't gone so well last time. He continued eating, occasionally glancing over at House. House seemed to becoming more nervous as the lunch went on, almost like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite come out with it.

"So." House started. "Some guy hit on me in the clinic today."

"Seriously?" Clearly this conversation was going to go in a different direction today.

"Yep." House popped another one of Wilson's fries in his mouth. "Right after I diagnosed him with abrasions in his throat."

"Abrasions from what?" A look of horror crossed Wilson's face. "Oh. Yikes."

"Yeah." House chuckled.

"So...what did you tell him?"

House gave him a baffled look. "Told him I was seeing someone, duh."

"Well, of course you did." Wilson rolled his eyes. He leaned forward, whispering to House. "If things were...you know, different, would you have...?"

"Wilson, don't be an idiot." House gave him a scorching look across the table. "I'd at least give him a few days for his abrasions to heal."

Wilson groaned inwardly. "Forget I even asked."

House grinned, enjoying Wilson's discomfort. "So...about this woman of yours."

"What?" Wilson was thrown by the change in subject, although he shouldn't have been.

"You know...the one that made you late for work today for the first time _ever_?"

A slow smile crept onto Wilson's face. "There's definitely...something there."

"Tell me something I don't know." House rolled his eyes. "I meant that crack you made this morning about falling for her."

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "Yeah, about that."

House scowled, waiting for Wilson to answer. "Tick tock, Wilson. Don't have all day."

"Is this you taking me seriously?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Wilson sighed heavily. "I didn't know what was going to happen with Lillian. I sure as hell didn't plan on falling for her."

"So what's the problem?"

"I don't know..."

"Jesus, Wilson." House leaned back in his chair, exasperated. "Amber's gone. She's not coming back. Put down the goddamn torch and just...live already." He glared across the table at Wilson. "Have you told her yet?"

"Not...really."

House shook his head. "You're slipping."

"I am not." Wilson shot back defensively. "Maybe I just don't want to screw mine up either."

House stopped mid-bite, dropping his eyes, the fire suddenly leaving him. "What's your point?"

Wilson's mouth twitched in a slight smile. "You already know what my point is." He reached across and stole a fry from House's plate. "So you told this guy you were seeing someone. Did you tell him _who _you were seeing?"

"Told him it was a guy." House smirked. "He assumed otherwise."

Wilson tilted his head at House. "So, who is Anthony to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...is he a boyfriend, lover, what?"

House glared at him before rising from the table. "Don't know why it matters." He grabbed his tray and started to limp away. "Always enjoy our little chats, Wilson."

"See you later, House." Wilson sighed as he cleaned up his spot on the table. Once again, the conversation hadn't gone anything like he hoped it would. It was more like old times, but it was clear that there were new things to work through. Wilson couldn't tell if they had managed to get anywhere or not.

# # #

House hid out in his office for the rest of the day, thinking over what he had said to Wilson. He knew damn well he should take his own advice, and Wilson did, too.

Wilson tapped on the glass on his way out, and House waved him in with an eyeroll. The younger man slowly walked in, one hand in his pants pocket and the other clutching his briefcase. "Hey."

House picked up his red and gray ball, tossing it casually in the air. "Hey."

Wilson's mouth twitched, not sure what to say next. "Talked to Lillian earlier."

"Yeah?"

"She thinks it would be fun for the four of us to get together."

House looked baffled. "What, like a double date?" His weathered face broke into a grin. "Thought I wasn't fifteen anymore."

"Yeah, I know." Wilson chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Apparently this was something Lillian and Anthony cooked up a while ago."

"Nice of them to let us in on it." House set his ball back on the desk. "That's boy's getting a talking to when I see him."

"Please tell me that's not a euphemism." Wilson groaned as he turned toward the door.

House pushed himself out of his chair, grabbing his jacket, helmet, and backpack. "I'll never tell."

The two men separated at the parking lot, and House took the opportunity to dig his phone out of his pocket, finding Anthony's number in his contacts and hitting send.

On the other end, Anthony's phone started belting out 'Doctor Love'. He grinned and flipped it open. "Hey, you."

"Hey." House grinned a little at the sound of the younger man's voice. "Thought I'd go home tonight and...I...wondered if you'd like to join me."

Anthony pushed himself to a sitting position on the couch. "I'm good with that. Any special reason?"

House chuckled. "Guess I kind of miss my...other toys."

Anthony snorted. "I'll make a quick store run and meet you over there."

"Sounds good." House agreed. "Oh, one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Bring a coffeemaker."

Anthony laughed. "That's a big step. Are you sure you're ready for all that?"

"It's your own damn fault." House countered. "You've spoiled me for all other coffee."

"Good." Anthony responded. Secretly, he kind of hoped he had spoiled House for a lot of other things. "See you in a while, then?"

"Yeah." House closed his phone, shoving it in his pocket as he pulled his helmet over his head and started the bike. It was going to be a chilly ride home, and warming up with Anthony and a cup of his coffee sounded like the start of a damn fine evening.

# # #

**And...go! Push that green button and tell me what you think. :)**


	30. Chapter 30

**Finally back with another update. This one follows the Fox forum's Friday Night O/C Challenge's August prompt--House admits he's happy. As usual, I don't own them.**

# # #

House was sitting at his piano, sipping at a glass of bourbon and working his way through a familiar classical piece. He had changed into a pair of flannel pants and Anthony's black sweatshirt upon arriving home, and was now almost warm after a chilly ride home on the bike.

"It's open!" He bellowed in response to the pounding on the door.

Anthony pushed his way through the door, loaded down with grocery bags. One of them was distinctly coffeemaker-shaped, which brought a small smile to House's face. "You going to fire up that coffeemaker?"

"Find it a home and I will."

House braced himself against the piano bench, preparing himself for the inevitable stab of pain that showed itself whenever he sat for too long. Finally he heaved himself up and lumbered toward the kitchen, leaning on the kitchen island.

He glanced around the kitchen, pointing at a bare spot on the counter near the sink. "Right there's good."

Anthony unpacked the coffeemaker and started a pot before turning back to the kitchen island to continue working on dinner. He stole a glance at House, who wore an unreadable expression as he clearly leaned heavily on his left leg.

"Everything okay, big guy?"

House's mouth quirked upward in a brief smile. "Yeah. Just sat too long."

"Mmm-kay." Anthony regarded House skeptically as he turned to stir the pot on the stove.

House rolled his eyes as he limped toward the sputtering coffeemaker. "No fussing." He took down two mugs from the cabinet and filled one with sugar. "How do you take it?"

Anthony turned around, puzzled, until he realized House was talking about the coffee. "Black's good."

A steaming mug magically appeared next to Anthony, accompanied by a hand at his waist and House's warm breath on the back of his neck. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared as House turned back toward the coffeemaker, a whiff of his woodsy scent the only sign that he had been there at all.

Anthony took a long sip before returning to his dinner preparations. He could hear the soft sounds of House's piano once again, and he couldn't help but feel...settled. That in and of itself was more than a little unsettling.

He finished assembling the lasagna and put it in the oven, moving over to the doorway to watch House at the piano. His head was bent in concentration over the keys as he played the unfamiliar song, pausing occasionally to take a sip of his coffee.

Anthony came up behind him, lightly rubbing House between his shoulder blades. The older man was startled at first, but soon relaxed into the touch. He nodded toward the bench. "Have a seat."

The younger man slid easily onto the bench, wrapping his hands around the coffee mug, surprised and pleased to be invited into House's inner sanctum. He brushed a light kiss to House's cheek as he continued to play.

A ghost of a smile appeared at the sign of affection, and House took a small breath before breaking the brief silence. "Got hit on today."

Anthony was immediately interested. "Really?"

"Yeah, in the clinic. It was weird." House shook his head, his hands moving over the keys in seemingly random chords. "Tell a guy to lay off the deep throat action and he swoons for you."

Anthony nearly choked on his coffee. "I _know_ there's more to the story than _that_."

House rolled his eyes, continuing with the story. "I told him I was seeing someone. He assumed I meant a woman. Surprised the hell out of him when I corrected him." He paused, placing his hands on his thighs as the notes died away. "Like I said, weird."

"Why do you say that?" Anthony questioned as he set his coffee down. "The...circumstances were kind of strange, but..." He moved closer to House so that their legs were touching, placing a hand on his waist. "I'll bet you get hit on all the time without even realizing it."

"Don't think so, boy." House snorted derisively. "Not everyone finds me as hot as you do."

"While that's not a bad thing..." Anthony shifted to straddle the bench, placing his other hand on House's thigh. "I don't necessarily think that's true."

He pressed a gentle kiss to House's scruffy jaw, evoking a soft sigh from the older man. "Doesn't matter right now anyway." House murmured, closing his eyes at the feel of Anthony's hands and lips on him.

"Damn right it doesn't." Anthony's voice was soft in his ear. He wasn't exactly jealous, but he was feeling oddly possessive of House. His lips moved down House's neck, taking in his intoxicating scent, his hands moving under the sweatshirt. A slow smile crept onto his face when he touched warm skin instead of the worn cotton he was expecting. "Hmm...didn't expect that."

House smirked and turned toward Anthony, slowly opening his eyes and tilting Anthony's chin up to meet his eyes. "Good. Like to keep things interesting, you know."

"I don't think you're capable of anything less." Anthony responded softly as he captured House's lips in a long, slow kiss, his tongue gently pushing forward and tangling with House's. A slight catch and a low rumble were House's only response. His hands found the hem of Anthony's shirt and slid underneath, pushing it up to tug it off the younger man and tossing it aside.

He slid back on the bench, making room to swing a leg over so he was straddling it before pulling Anthony in close, forcefully returning his kiss as he let his hands roam over the younger man's body. Anthony let out a sound something like a whimper, lightly caressing House under the sweatshirt as he pushed it up, attempting to take it off the older man.

"Could use a little help here." Anthony murmured, starting a trail of kisses up House's chest.

"If you insist." House replied roughly, pulling the sweatshirt over his head and dropping it on the floor.

Anthony's hands followed his mouth, moving upwards while gently easing House to lay down on the bench. The move piqued House's curiosity, trying to imagine what the younger man might have in mind. A million possibilities flashed through his mind, all of them thrilling, interesting, exciting.

A small chuckle escaped him, and Anthony caught the interested expression on House's face. He pulled them closer to the end of the bench and leaned over House, tracing one finger slowly down the center of his chest and stomach. "You okay?"

House's eyes gleamed as he took Anthony's hand and moved it lower. "You tell me."

Anthony chuckled and bent down to kiss House all over, his lips touching the little marks he had left the night before. House arched and twitched underneath him, his breaths getting shorter as House wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer.

A buzzing in the background broke in, and Anthony started to pull away from House. "And...that would be dinner."

"Let it burn." House growled, firmly holding on to Anthony. "I'd just as soon have you."

Anthony rolled his eyes in amusement, lightly kissing House on the stomach. "It _does_ need some cooling time." He worked his way up House's chest and throat, leaving a soft kiss on his mouth. "I'll be right back."

House's eyes followed Anthony as he pulled out the lasagna and set it on the counter, wiping off his hands as he padded out of the kitchen and through the living room toward the hallway.

He pushed himself up, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Hey, hey, hey!" House hollered. "You're going the wrong way."

Anthony turned slightly, a smirk lighting his face. "Patience, hon. I told you I'd be right back."

House returned the expression, laying back down on the bench. The look on Anthony's face told him all he needed to know. The boy was up to no good, which usually meant something _very _good for House. If that required a bit of so-called patience, well...so be it.

# # #

Anthony returned to see House stretched out down the length of the piano bench, hands folded over his stomach, eyes closed. His left leg was bent at the knee, the foot on the bench, while his right dangled over the side. It was almost as if he was posing, and Anthony almost wished he had a camera to capture the moment. He was certain that House had no idea how gorgeous he looked just then.

He casually tossed the pillow he had brought from the bedroom near the bench and leaned over to caress House's left thigh, kissing the inside of his knee as he did so. House's breath came out as a brief gasp, and the brilliant blue eyes flew open at the touch. He lifted his head just enough to see Anthony leaving a soft trail of kisses up the inside of his thigh, stopping just short of his center, shifting to leave one more on his stomach just above the waistband of his pants.

House set his head back down with a soft thud, a soft groan escaping him. Anthony's lips continued their trail up his stomach and chest, and House's hand wrapped around the back of Anthony's neck as their lips and tongues finally met for a long, languorous kiss.

"Told you I'd be back." Anthony murmured, smoothing his hands over House's body.

House halfheartedly rolled his eyes, lightly running his hands over Anthony's back and wrapping a leg around the man now seated on the bench. "Not like I doubted you. I just hate waiting."

Anthony laughed softly, starting to work his way back down House's body. "I'll make it worth the wait."

House let out a low chuckle. "I've got _no_ doubt about that."

Anthony kept moving downward, sliding to the end of the bench, taking a couple of small objects out of his jeans pocket and holding them in his hand while he slowly traced along House's waistband with one finger.

House's hands curled around Anthony's lower back in response, and he allowed his left leg to fall to the side of the piano bench. He looked so open, so vulnerable, and so utterly beautiful to Anthony. It was almost more than he could stand.

He lightly caressed House through the soft flannel of his sleep pants, and the older man arched up toward Anthony's hand as he slipped his hands around to undo Anthony's jeans. There was a quick flurry of activity as both men disrobed and Anthony grabbed the pillow near the piano bench.

"Lift up." Anthony spoke in a rush.

House lifted his head, baffled. "What?"

Anthony nudged him with the pillow. "Thought you'd be a little more comfortable this way."

House's eyes crinkled in a small smile. "Always looking out for me." He lifted himself just enough for Anthony to tuck the pillow under him, his head still lifted just enough to watch the younger man with great interest.

Green met blue as the younger man squirted a generous amount of the bottle's contents onto his fingers, rolling it around to warm it before spreading it on House, gently entering with first one finger, then two, developing a slow, steady rhythm, watching a variety of reactions cross House's expressive face.

He used his other hand to stroke up House's stomach, moving across his chest, lightly pinching at each nipple. House's eyes flew open, bucking upward, nearly throwing both of them off the bench. "Jesus, Tony. What the hell are you _doing_ to me?"

Anthony's lips quirked in a slight smile. "I can stop anytime."

"Don't you dare..." House growled, his hands circling the younger man's waist.

Anthony smiled to himself as he pulled out his fingers, finding the foil packet and tearing it open, covering himself before settling himself between House's legs. He had long wanted to do this, to be able to watch House's face as he entered him_._

He wasn't disappointed. House's eyes went wide initially, then fluttered closed, the expression continuously changing as Anthony found his rhythm, plunging deeper into him.

House's senses were overwhelmed, and he found himself simply giving in to the pleasure. He was continually surprised by how much he enjoyed the experience, and he shifted himself slightly to pull his foot up on the bench, changing the angle just a bit. A small moan escaped him at the sensation, and it spurred Anthony to pump harder, bracing one hand against House's chest while reaching down to stroke him with the other.

House went over the edge a split second before Anthony, and the younger man collapsed against him, breathing heavily as he kissed House's neck, settling in the hollow of his collarbone. Anthony felt House wrap his arms around him, holding him tightly and planting a firm kiss to the top of his head.

He let out a long sigh, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as they rubbed along Anthony's back. "Think that lasagna's cool now?"

Anthony burst out laughing. "I hope so. You're not the only one who worked up an appetite." He placed a gentle kiss on House's collarbone, smiling at the older man's soft gasp in reaction. "Let me up."

"Don't really want to." House murmured. The younger man's weight on his chest felt so good right now that he truly didn't want to let him go.

Anthony left another kiss in the space between his collarbones. "Okay...if you don't mind being...stuck together..."

"Good point." House reluctantly released him and started to rise to a sitting position when Anthony stopped him with a hand to the chest.

"Stay put, hon. I'll be right back."

House smirked. "That's what you said last time, and look what happened."

Anthony snorted as he padded down the hallway. "I didn't hear _you _complaining, unless I misinterpreted all that noise you were making."

House chuckled to himself at Anthony's answer. The man made a good point. House _definitely_ wasn't complaining.

So much had changed in such a short time. It blew House's mind when he really stopped to think about it. Not that he was analyzing it much. He had more or less given up trying to do that, since logic had almost nothing to do with this new relationship between he and Anthony.

The feel of something warm and moist jolted him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Anthony running a warm washcloth over him. He regarded the younger man with amusement. "You going to wipe my ass for me, too?"

Anthony's bright green eyes crinkled in equal amusement. "Maybe when you're old and senile."

House's face went soft as he placed a hand over Anthony's, stopping him briefly. "Is it wrong to find something appealing about that?"

Anthony shook his head. "If it is...then I'm wrong too."

House pushed himself to a full sitting position, taking the washcloth from Anthony and gently wiped it over him, a serious expression on his face. For all his rough-and-tumble look and attitude, the older man was always surprisingly gentle and tender with Anthony. It was always an interesting juxtaposition to him.

Anthony suddenly felt House's lips on his stomach and his arms wrap around him as House emitted a soft sigh. He stroked the top of House's head, leaving a light kiss on top of his head. "Everything okay?"

"Yep." House's voice was soft, his head resting against Anthony. "Just wondering how the hell I got so lucky."

Anthony slid down so that he kneeled in front of House, meeting his eyes. He lightly ran his hands over the top of House's thighs, and this time the older man barely flinched as Anthony's hand went over the scar. "Funny, I was kind of thinking the same thing."

House averted his eyes, shaking his head as he made a show of looking around for his clothes. Anthony frowned briefly, rising and leaning in, turning House's face back toward him. "Hey, look at me." House's eyes flicked back toward him. "You know I don't say anything I don't mean. So when I tell you that I feel damned lucky to be with you..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." House muttered and turned away again, picking up the black sweatshirt and gesturing toward the flannel pants. Anthony caught just the barest hint of a smile crossing House's weathered face as he handed the pants to him.

"You're smiling." Anthony couldn't help but tease House a little as he got dressed.

"Am not." House quickly pulled the sweatshirt over his head and eased the pants over his legs.

"It's your story, tell it any way you want." Anthony finished dressing, pushing up the sleeves on his shirt and leaning over House. "Nobody's going to be upset with you for being happy, you know. It won't kill you to admit it."

House's mouth twitched in thought. "I'm not sure I'd know happy if it hit me over the head."

"Oh, Greg." Anthony's voice softened as he lightly caressed House's cheek.

"I don't need your pity." House growled, even as he leaned into the touch.

"Good thing I don't do pity, then." Anthony answered quietly, sitting down next to House on the bench.

They were silent for a moment until House reached out to place a hand on Anthony's thigh, stroking with his thumb. "It's not that I don't _want _to be happy. I'm just...kind of out of practice." He was reluctant to admit how long it had been since he could remember just feeling happy with life in general, as opposed to specific events. Hell, the words he had just spoken made him feel ridiculously exposed. It was scary.

"Hmm." Anthony slipped his arms around House's waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

House rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing." Anthony smiled as he unwrapped himself from House and rose from the bench. "Thought I'd check on that lasagna." He held out a hand to House. "I could use a second opinion."

That same ghost of a smile found its way back on House's face as he took the offered hand, pulling himself up from the bench. Anthony seemed content to let the conversation go for now, and House was grateful for it. It was one of the things he liked about the man, the way he seemed to care about House without smothering him.

That, House had to admit, made him pretty damned happy. He followed Anthony into the kitchen, moving a lot slower than he had previous to their activities.

Anthony's face showed a flash of concern as he cut into the lasagna. "Need anything?"

House came up behind Anthony, wrapping his arms around his waist and setting his chin on the younger man's shoulder. "Nope. Kind of looks like I've got everything I need right here."

Anthony thought his heart would crack wide open at House's words, and he turned his head ever so slightly, his lips almost touching House's. "Seriously?"

House checked himself mid-eyeroll. "Seriously." The single word came out firmly, leaving no doubt in Anthony's mind about House's feelings. "You going to cut me a piece of that or what?"

Anthony started to cut another piece when House covered his hand with his own, guiding him to cut a larger portion. The younger man wondered if House was even aware of what he was doing. It seemed to him the House was, in his own way, making small steps toward making his wants known.

It must have shown on his face, because House suddenly released him, scowling as he dished up the large slab of lasagna. "Something funny?"

"Not at all." Anthony smiled warmly, brushing a hand along House's waist as he passed by him on his way out of the kitchen.

House felt his heart skip a beat at the touch, following the younger man out of the kitchen as quickly as he could. He joined Anthony on the couch, playfully shoving him aside with a hip as he landed.

"Hey!" Anthony laughed. "There's a whole damn couch here, you know. You don't _have_ to be right next to me."

"But what if I want to be?"

Anthony's heart melted a little at the question. "In that case...you're fine where you are."

"Damn right I am." House murmured as he shoveled the lasagna in his mouth. It was one of those all too rare moments when everything seemed just right. House filed the moment away, still not sure that it could ever happen again, but feeling just a little hopeful that it might. If that qualified as happy, well then...House supposed that right now, he _was_ happy. Might as well enjoy it while he had it.

# # #

**Now it's your turn. Read and review. :)**


	31. Chapter 31

**Got kind of longwinded with this one. I still don't own House or Wilson.**

# # #

House was relaxing against Anthony after dinner, his head laying on the younger man's shoulder as he idly flipped through the channels. Truth be told, he wasn't paying much attention to the images on the television. Instead, his mind kept looping through the events of the evening.

It had all been good. All of it. Aside from some residual soreness from the piano bench thing, he couldn't think of anything negative about the evening. So why the hell was he having such a hard time relaxing and enjoying it?

He huffed in irritation and shifted closer to Anthony, continuing to channel surf without finding anything. The younger man glanced down at him from his book, frowning slightly. "What's up?"

"Two hundred channels and nothing but crap." House griped. "Why the hell do I even have cable?"

Anthony plucked the remote out of House's hand and turned off the TV before tossing the remote on the coffee table. He shifted down the couch, making room for House to stretch out across him, patting his leg. "Come on and lay down, hon."

House regarded him with a sharp look. "Kind of need the other end of the couch."

"Of course." Anthony quickly moved to the opposite end, and House slowly stretched himself out, his head in Anthony's lap and an arm wrapped around the other man's waist. "Better?"

"I guess." House gripped Anthony's forearm that was casually draped over his chest.

Whatever was on House's mind, he clearly didn't feel like sharing it right then. Anthony started to remove his arm and return to his book when he felt House's grip tighten. He glanced down to see a pair of bright blue eyes staring up at him.

"Okay, you've got my attention now." Anthony lightly squeezed House's shoulder. "What do you want?"

House relaxed his grip, averting his eyes while now lightly stroking Anthony's arm. There was so much that he wanted to say that it was difficult for him to start. "Things are...going pretty good between us, right?"

"So far, so good." Anthony agreed.

House twisted his mouth thoughtfully. "You ever feel like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop?"

Anthony was baffled. "No, not really."

"Huh." House frowned. "Never mind then."

"Oh, no you don't." Anthony chided him. "You started this. You need to finish it."

House squirmed uncomfortably. "I'm just saying...nothing good ever lasts. Kind of can't help but think that...forget it." His voice faded as he closed his eyes. He didn't want this to end, but with his history, it seemed inevitable.

Anthony smiled a little as he moved his hand from House's shoulder down to his ribcage, spreading out his fingers. "How long are you going to sing that song, hon? Fucking relax already."

House scowled and removed Anthony's arm, pushing himself off the couch and picking up the few dishes on the coffee table. He furiously limped toward the kitchen, and Anthony could hear him clattering around, muttering and swearing to himself.

Finally Anthony heard water start running, and soon it sounded like the worst was over. He set his book and glasses aside, daring to enter the kitchen.

House had his own I Pod plugged into the speakers Anthony had set up in the kitchen earlier, and Led Zeppelin screamed out as House bent over the sink. His lips were set in a thin line as he scrubbed the dishes, tossing them into the rinse sink.

Anthony slipped in and started to rinse off dishes and set them in the drainer. House glanced over at him, but didn't say anything. The two men finished the task in silence, and Anthony moved to wipe down counters and the stove as House leaned on his hands against the sink, head bent down.

He reached out to turn down the I Pod just as Anthony reached out to set the sponge back in its resting place on the back of the sink. Their hands touched, and House's mouth quirked upward in something like amusement, but the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. House quickly kept moving to turn down the music before leaning with his back against the sink, catching Anthony's wrist as he started to move away from the sink.

His eyes seemed to be searching for something in Anthony's face, but Anthony wasn't sure what it could be. Finally House pulled Anthony toward him, rubbing both hands over his upper arms before bending down for a brief kiss.

Anthony was surprised at first, then sighed with exasperation. "Do you mind telling me what's going on?"

House looked away, suddenly fascinated with the floor. "Not sure." He huffed in frustration. "I...kind of get the feeling that I take this thing a hell of a lot more seriously than you do."

"What?" Anthony stepped forward, nearly nose to nose with House. "Why would you think that?"

"It doesn't seem to bother you that _this_ might end." House instinctively tried to back up, but realized that he was up against the sink.

Anthony blew out a long sigh, stepping back a little and taking House's hands in his. "And you worry about it so goddamn much that you can't enjoy what's happening right now." He brought one hand to his lips, tenderly kissing the palm. "Just because our relationship's just starting doesn't mean I don't take it seriously. I _do_ want us to work out. I'm just not going to freak out over what _might_ happen."

House's eyes closed at the sensation of Anthony's lips on his hand. His desire to simply let go and let things happen was at odds with his fear of failing. If he couldn't make this work...maybe he was meant to be alone. House couldn't stand the thought of that, not anymore.

He suddenly pulled Anthony to him in a rough embrace, a ragged sigh escaping him. Anthony returned the embrace, taking in House's woodsy scent mingled with his own natural scent, warm and inviting. House bent his forehead to touch Anthony's shoulder, mumbling something Anthony didn't quite catch. "Say what, hon?"

House lifted his head, looking directly at Anthony. "I _said_...I want us to work out, too."

"Well then, it looks like we're on the same page after all." Anthony smiled a little, lightly rubbing House's back.

"I guess so." House looked and sounded a little doubtful, but a bit of light seemed to return to those stunning blue eyes. He finally released Anthony, letting his hands trail down the younger man's arms to lightly grasp his fingers, caressing them with his own.

Anthony leaned forward to brush a light kiss to House's lips. "Stress out about whatever else, but...don't stress over us. We're fine."

A knock at the door made both men jump, and House knew it could be only one person. "Come on in, we're decent...now."

Anthony couldn't help but snort as he turned back toward the living room. Wilson had entered, looking vaguely uncomfortable when he saw Anthony. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

Anthony opened his mouth to assure Wilson when House boldly limped out of the kitchen. "No problem, Jimmy. Good thing you didn't stop by about, oh, two hours ago. _Then _you would have been interrupting."

Wilson's face went through about five different expressions before finally settling on resignation, and Anthony merely dropped his head to hide his laughter at House's statement and Wilson's resulting discomfort. House plopped himself on the couch, lifting his leg to rest on the coffee table. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Lillian's on call, so I thought I'd go down to the sports bar." Wilson tilted his head at House. "Devils are playing tonight. Want to go?"

House looked thoughtful. On one hand, he missed Wilson, and he didn't want to turn down an opportunity to hang out with him. On the other, it somehow felt wrong to leave Anthony alone in his apartment. He turned toward Anthony, who was heading down the hallway. "Mom!" He bellowed. "Wilson wants me to go play. Can I go?!"

Anthony initially froze at the words, flashing back to Drew's use of 'play'. He shook it off when he realized that House was merely messing with him and Wilson. He turned back and poked his head out of the entryway. "So go. What's the problem?"

House rolled his eyes and heaved himself off the couch. "Hold on, Wilson. Need a consult with the boy."

Wilson was initially amused as House leaned heavily on the entryway, nearly obscuring the other man. He could barely make out the conversation, but the bits that he did hear caught him off guard. It sounded like House was expressing some sort of concern for Anthony. If he hadn't seen it, he wouldn't have believed it.

They seemed to reach some sort of agreement, and House bent down slightly to place a kiss on the other man's lips, lightly touching him along his waist as he started down the hallway, turning back toward Wilson. "Five minutes. Don't leave without me."

"I'll be here." Wilson chuckled as Anthony returned to the living room. The other man settled into one of the armchairs with his book, pushing his glasses onto his face.

"I'm sure you can have a seat, Wilson." Anthony nodded toward the couch.

"I'm fine, thanks." Wilson wandered around near the entrance, suddenly feeling a little ill at ease in his best friend's space. Of course Anthony would be here. Why wouldn't he be?

He had to admit that he wasn't used to sharing House with another person. As much as he wished for House to be able to have a relationship, he had never counted on it happening. The thought made him chuckle a little.

"What's so funny?" Anthony asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't know." Wilson admitted. "I guess I'm just not used to having to share House. Usually he's fighting with whoever I'm with to have time with me."

Anthony shrugged, setting down his book and taking off his glasses. "You're important to him. He doesn't want to lose you."

"He's important to me, too." Wilson answered softly, lifting his head to meet Anthony's eyes. "Is he okay?"

"Seems to be, mostly." Anthony tilted his head. "Why?"

"Don't know. Things just seem...off, somehow." Wilson shook his head. "That's part of why I stopped by tonight. I guess I just...miss him."

"Nothing wrong with that." Anthony's eyes seemed to bore through Wilson. "Neither one of us can be all things to Greg. He needs both of us." He looked thoughtful for a moment, a slight smile gracing his chiseled features. "Well...I know for sure he needs you. I can't say whether he _needs_ me."

"Talking about me?" House quipped as he limped in, turning up the sleeves on a sky blue button down shirt and dropping a small kiss on top of Anthony's head.

"But of course." Anthony teased. "You're a very popular guy around here, you know."

House chuckled as he plopped down on the couch to shove his feet into his running shoes. He rose from the couch and leaned over Anthony, turning his head toward Wilson. "You might want to avert your virgin eyes for this part, Boy Wonder."

Wilson merely rolled his eyes as House bent down to give Anthony a brief kiss. "So." House murmured. "Do I have a curfew, Mom?"

Anthony laughed softly. "No, hon. Just have a good time. He needs you, you know. More than you think he does."

House twisted his mouth before pushing away. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"_Yes_." Anthony told him firmly. "Now get the hell out of here."

House turned around and limped heavily over to the door, grabbing his jacket and his cane before following Wilson out the door. After the door closed, Anthony happened to glance over by the piano bench. The pillow was still there, and the bottle of lube and the wrapper were on the floor close by. He kind of hoped that Wilson didn't notice the evidence. Seeing his best friend in a relationship with a man was one thing, but Anthony could see that there was a strong possibility that Wilson would be uncomfortable with such obvious evidence of their physical relationship.

He snorted and returned to his book, turning the TV on to one of the digital music channels for some background noise. If Wilson did acknowledge things, for whatever reason, Anthony was sure that House would have a field day with him. Hell, House might mention it first, just to get a rise out of the other man.

Anthony supposed it really didn't matter. As long as the two men were out together, having some version of a good time, all was well as far as he was concerned.

# # #

The two men entered the crowded and noisy sports bar, and Wilson felt a strong hand fall on his shoulder as he moved through the crowd. He nearly jumped at the sensation, surprised to find that it was House's hand. Rather than call him on it, Wilson continued to guide them to the row of barstools, finding an open pair with a decent view of one of the big screen TVs.

The bartender set them up with their drinks, and soon the two friends were deeply involved in the game, alternately cheering, groaning, and yelling at the screen. The first period ended, and House and Wilson turned back toward the bar, making small talk about the game before falling into silence.

House swirled the ice in his glass, fixing it with a thoughtful expression. "So...what's the real reason you dragged me out here tonight?"

Wilson chuckled, knowing the question was bound to come up sooner or later. "I don't know...I guess we haven't had a chance to do our usual thing in a while. Figured this would make a good guys' night out...or something."

House's rough face lit in a full grin. "You missed me."

Wilson's eyes crinkled as a wide smile took over his boyish face. "And you missed me too, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"So good to talk about this crap." House drained his glass in one shot. "Very cleansing."

"Right." Wilson polished off his beer, signaling the bartender for another round. "Game's back on."

House nodded, taking a short sip from the fresh glass in front of him. His phone started singing Chicago's 'Beginnings', and he pulled it out of his pocket to see a new text from Anthony. While Wilson's back was turned, he flipped it open, a small smirk on his face.

_Going to bed. Call me if you need me._

House quickly texted back a reply and set the phone on the bar. He didn't know if he'd get an answer, but it couldn't hurt to keep it out just in case.

The familiar song burst out of his phone again, and Wilson turned at the sound. "Is that you?"

House felt his cheeks burn a little, automatically reacting to getting busted at something he wasn't supposed to be doing. He glared at Wilson as he flipped open the phone, but the glare quickly softened into a small smile upon reading the message.

_You're a funny man, Greg. :)_

_Love you, too._

House closed his phone, holding it against his mouth, once again deep in thought. The loud cheer that rose from the crowd as the Devils scored a goal seemed to fade into the background as he focused on the object in his hand.

Wilson smiled a little before turning back to the game. If nothing else, it was clear his friend was deeply infatuated with Anthony. He supposed it was entirely possible that his feelings ran deeper than House would let on.

Finally he heard House grumbling behind him in response to some boneheaded move by the Devils, and Wilson felt that it was safe to turn around again. The phone had disappeared, probably back into the older man's pocket.

They fell back into their discussion as they watched the remainder of the hockey game, continuing to drink as they did so. No heavy conversation was going to happen tonight, but then again, this wasn't really the purpose of the evening. Truthfully, Wilson just wanted to hang out and have a few beers with House, just like old times.

When the game ended, House drained the last of his glass and hopped off the barstool, stumbling as he landed on his good leg, catching himself with his cane. He had lost track of how many bourbons he had thrown down over the course of the night, and he was feeling them far more than he would have otherwise. "Dammit." He grumbled. "Hope you're good to drive, Wilson. I think I'm..." He frowned as he tried to find the word.

"...shitfaced. I believe that's the word you're looking for." Wilson gave House a goofy, lopsided grin as he slid off his own barstool. He felt decidedly unbalanced as he found his footing. "Uh..."

House glared at Wilson as he weaved where he stood. "And you're supposed to be the responsible one." He flagged down the bartender, tossing down his debit card to take care of the tab while he pulled out his phone.

"What're you doing?" Wilson was baffled by House's uncharacteristic behavior.

"This..." House held up his debit card, speaking to Wilson like he would speak to a child, "...would be me covering our tab. And this..." He waved his phone around. "...is me calling Tony to get our sorry drunken asses home."

Wilson snorted as he leaned heavily on House. "Look at you being a grown up. I'm so proud."

House rolled his eyes, buckling slightly under Wilson's weight. "Shut up...and get off me. Can't hardly hold myself up, never mind you."

He dialed Anthony's phone, waiting impatiently for him to pick up. Finally a sleepy voice answered. "Hello?"

"Tony!" House bellowed. "Need a ride, man."

Anthony slowly sat up in bed, swinging his legs over the side. "Wilson, too?"

"Yep." House sounded almost cheerful. "He was _totally_ irresponsible tonight. The man can't hardly stand up."

Anthony laughed and shook his head. "Give me a few minutes to get dressed, and I'll be there. Where are you guys?"

House gave him the name of the bar, followed by some lascivious comment about Anthony's state of dress before closing the phone, and Anthony could hear House fumble around with it before it finally cut off.

Anthony closed the phone and started changing clothes. Picking up House and Wilson, drunk at the bar...this was going to be very interesting. He wasn't sure whether to dread it or not. There was no point in worrying about that right now, though.

He picked up his keys and threw on his jacket, heading out the door and locking it behind him. Hopefully this little rescue would be relatively drama-free. All he wanted to do was crawl back into bed, preferably with House curled up next to him, even if it was a drunken House.

# # #

Anthony entered the bar, looking around for the two friends. He spotted them at the bar, House leaning against it, and Wilson half leaning on House.

"Tony!" House waved his cane around, nearly falling over under Wilson's weight. "Over here!"

Anthony's mouth quirked in amusement as he made his way through the thinning crowd. House was clearly inebriated, and Wilson wasn't much better. A wide grin spread across House's face as he wrapped Anthony in a tight bear hug, planting a sloppy kiss on his forehead. "Hi, honey."

Wilson waved sheepishly as Anthony gently hugged House. "Sorry about this. We...kinda lost track of...uh...everything."

"No big." Anthony managed to extricate himself from House's grip. "I told Greg to call if he needed me."

"And I _definitely_ need you." House grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Anthony, trying to pull him in for another sloppy kiss. He aimed for the younger man's mouth and missed completely.

"Come on, hon, let's get you home." Anthony gently guided House towards the exit, turning towards Wilson. "Where am I taking you?"

"He's coming home with us." House spoke loudly, drawing attention from a few patrons around the exit. He glared at their baffled expressions. "Not like that. He doesn't swing that way. Me, on the other hand..."

"Okay..." Anthony quickly pushed House out the door before he could stick his foot any further in his mouth. "Out we go."

Wilson looked briefly mortified as he followed the other two men out the door, feeling suddenly awkward. "You can just drop me at home."

"And how the hell did you plan on getting your car in the morning?" House asked loudly as Anthony guided him into the passenger seat. "Dammit, I hate your car. Too goddamn small."

"Remember that the next time you decided to get wasted at a bar." Anthony countered. He glanced in the rear view mirror at Wilson. "Are you sure? I can drop you at your car tomorrow if you stay at Greg's."

"If it's not too much trouble..." Wilson mumbled.

"You've been crashing on my couch for as long as I've had a couch to crash on." House snapped. "You're staying."

Wilson's muddled brain was having trouble processing things. He didn't want to impose on House and his new...whatever Anthony was to him. Honestly, Wilson wasn't sure what he was interrupting by hanging around. He couldn't get any argument out in a coherent fashion, and he finally gave up, flopping against the back of the rear passenger seat. "Fine. I'll stay."

"Good." Anthony smiled warmly. "Sounds like it's settled, then."

"Cool." House mumbled. He turned his head toward Wilson in the back seat. "He bought a coffeemaker for my place. No more waiting til you get to work for a decent cup of coffee." He heavily patted Anthony on the thigh. "And this man makes a damn fine cup of coffee."

"Thank you, hon." Anthony chuckled, giving House's hand a brief squeeze. He felt House's eyes boring into him from the front passenger seat. "You okay?"

House gave him a goofy grin, his head resting against the headrest, his hand still on Anthony's thigh. "I love you."

"Love you too."

"I mean it." House leaned over, planting a kiss on the younger man's cheek, awkwardly caressing his leg. "I really love you. I'd tell you that even if I wasn't...what was that word you used, Wilson?"

"Shitfaced." Wilson mumbled, alternately amused and embarrassed at the exchange he was witnessing.

"That's it." House moved his hand further up Anthony's leg, and Anthony moved to stop him.

"Easy there, big guy." Anthony moved House's hand back to its previous spot. "Still driving here."

"Party pooper." House huffed and returned to his side of the car. The goofy grin didn't leave his face, and Anthony couldn't help but chuckle a little as he pulled up in front of House's building.

Anthony and Wilson both climbed out of the car, and Anthony circled the car to be available to House as he staggered out of the passenger side. House waved both men off as he heaved himself to his feet, fumbling around for his keys and finding the one he was looking for. He dangled it out to Anthony. "First one's the main, second one's the apartment key." He looked oddly thoughtful as he tried to maintain his balance. "Suppose I should get you your own keys."

"We can talk about that later." Anthony assured him as he stayed near House, unsure of his ability to stay upright.

House glared at him. "You're fucking hovering. Knock it off and let us in."

Anthony nodded quickly and trotted up the steps to open the main door, and he felt a hand land heavily on his shoulder as he unlocked the apartment door. Wilson merely leaned on the doorframe, looking either slightly ill or very tired, possibly both.

The three of them made it in, and Wilson automatically went to the hall closet to pull down the spare blanket and pillow that House kept there for such occasions. "House, where's the pillow?"

House frowned, then glanced at Anthony, who flicked his eyes toward the piano bench. Even in his drunken state, he thought quickly. "I'll...find you one."

"Never mind. I'll just use this one." Wilson stumbled over to the piano bench before either man could stop him. "What the hell is it doing way over here?" His eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he bent down to pick it up, spotting the bottle and the wrapper on the floor. "Oh...uh..."

"It's exactly what you think." House staggered over to snatch the pillow away, nearly losing his balance in the process. "Well...maybe not exactly..."

Wilson's eyes went wide. "I should just go..."

"Wilson, you're not going anywhere tonight." Anthony was the gentle voice of reason as he guided Wilson back to the couch. "Get settled and I'll find you a pillow." He jerked his head at House, fixing him with a brief glare.

House huffed in irritation as he stumbled down the hallway and tossed the pillow on the bed, grabbing a different one off the bed. He made his way back to the living room and unceremoniously tossed the pillow at Wilson. "You'll probably like this one better. My naked ass hasn't been anywhere near it."

"Greg!" Anthony hissed at House as he leaned on the back of the couch. "Sorry about that."

"I'm used to it." Wilson muttered as he tucked the pillow under his head and pulled the blanket over him. He glanced up at Anthony. "You're a good guy, you know that?"

Anthony shrugged, a slight smile crossing his face. "So I hear. Good night, Wilson."

"Night."

Anthony turned out the living room light and made his way down the hallway to the bedroom. House was already sprawled out across the bed, shirtless with the covers half covering him. One bare leg stuck out from under the covers, and Anthony was vaguely curious if there was anything covering House under those covers.

House shifted and lifted his head. "You coming to bed or are you just going to ogle me all night?"

"Who says I can't do both?" Anthony couldn't resist teasing House, even as he knew there was no chance of anything happening tonight.

"Works for me." House mumbled, watching Anthony undress and start to change into his sleep pants. "Leave them off."

Anthony raised his eyebrows. "Any...special reason?"

"Nope." House rolled over on his side, throwing back the covers. "Just want you here. The sooner, the better."

Anthony climbed in next to House, laying on his back, reaching out to lightly stroke House's arm. House immediately stretched his arm across Anthony's chest, his head not far behind as he lay a series of sloppy kisses on Anthony's neck.

The younger man turned over to his side so that his back was to House, realizing that there was nothing but skin between them. House curled up closer, nuzzling Anthony's neck. "I meant what I said, you know."

"I know." Anthony closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of House's body pressed to his, the scent of bourbon blending with House's own scent wafting over to him.

"Even if I'm drunk, I don't say shit I don't mean."

"Okay." Anthony squeezed House's hand. "Now hush and go to sleep."

"I love you, baby." House mumbled as he squeezed back.

Anthony stiffened at the word. "Don't call me that. Call me anything else, but don't call me 'baby'."

"Mm-kay." House was puzzled, but let it go. He didn't feel up to solving any mysteries tonight. "I love you, sweetie...darling...light of my life..."

Anthony snorted, relaxing against House. "Now you're just being silly. Go to sleep."

"Okay." House's breathing evened out, and he soon started snoring loudly in Anthony's ear. Anthony sighed and closed his eyes. One night of running short on sleep wouldn't kill him, and it was almost worth it to feel House next to him, sleeping peacefully for a change.

As he fell asleep, Anthony hoped that House's and Wilson's night out had helped repair their tattered friendship somewhat. He still wasn't sure that House needed him, but he knew for certain that the two men would fall apart without each other. Anthony wanted to make damn sure that didn't happen, whatever it took.

# # #

**Okay, readers, do your thing. Read and review. :)**


	32. Chapter 32

**Insert the usual disclaimers here. I don't own them, wish I did, you know the rest. :)**

# # #

Wilson awakened the next morning, completely disoriented by his surroundings. The couch was familiar, lumpy and smelling of leather, but the smells of fresh coffee most definitely were not. He vaguely remembered House mentioning something about a new coffeemaker last night as they returned to House's place.

He vaguely remembered a lot of things, none of them connected. God, he felt like crap. Wilson half hoped that House would feel similar when he eventually woke up, even though the whole night out had been Wilson's idea.

"Oh, good morning." A bright voice busted through his fuzzy brain. "There's coffee when you're ready."

Wilson turned over, burying his face in the pillow. It brought to mind something...some snarky comment House had made...something about his bare ass and the pillow...

"Oh my God." Wilson suddenly jumped up to a sitting position running his hand through his hair before letting it rest on the back of his neck.

Anthony paused near the coffee table, confused by Wilson's sudden movement. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Wilson mumbled, embarrassed by his reaction. "Just...something about the pillow..."

Anthony bit back a chuckle. "Don't worry. Greg was just bullshitting you."

"Right." Wilson blinked and nodded, relaxing a little bit. "You said something about coffee?"

"Yep." Anthony gestured toward the kitchen. "I assume you know where everything is."

Wilson rose and stumbled slightly, recovering enough to make it into the kitchen. He found a mug and poured in the strong brew, wrapping his hands around it and taking a deep whiff of it before having a drink.

It was damn fine coffee, on par with Lillian's. Wilson leaned against the counter with a smile crossing his face, thoroughly enjoying the coffee.

Anthony padded into the kitchen, glad to see Wilson working his way through a mug of coffee. "How's your coffee?"

"Better than I'm used to around here." Wilson chuckled. "No wonder House keeps you around."

"Pretty sure that's a big part of it." Anthony laughed in return. "The man does love his coffee."

"Sounds like he loves you, too." Wilson carefully studied the other man, waiting for his reaction.

"He was drunk." Anthony tried to keep his tone light and casual. "Everybody talks crazy when they're drunk."

"Not House." Wilson fixed Anthony with a steely look. "If anything, excessive alcohol works like truth serum for him."

Anthony paused at the coffeemaker, glancing down with a thoughtful look. "He's scared."

Wilson squinted slightly at Anthony. "Of what?"

"Of us." Anthony's mouth twitched in something like amusement. "He's already got a vision of the whole relationship from start to inevitable crash-and-burn finish."

"It's what he knows." Wilson shrugged as he took a long drink from the mug.

Anthony's face fell a little. "God, he really is that screwed up."

"Yes, he is." Wilson closed the distance between them, placing a hand on Anthony's shoulder. "But...you might be the one who changes his mind. He seems...less screwed up around you."

"You really think so?" Anthony turned to meet Wilson's soft brown eyes with his own.

"I do." Wilson nodded firmly. "I haven't seen him act like that around anyone since Stacy."

"I keep hearing this woman's name." Anthony's eyes crinkled in amusement. "She must have been something."

"He loved her like I've never seen him love anyone else." Wilson spoke simply. "If it hadn't been for the infarction...who knows." He quickly drained the remains of his coffee, cursing himself for running his mouth. House would tear him a new one if he knew. "Anyway...I should probably get going."

"I'll swing you by the bar." Anthony set down his mug and padded into the living room, sitting down to put on his shoes before grabbing his jacket and keys.

Wilson followed Anthony to his car, and the two men rode in silence back to the sports bar, pulling up next to Wilson's silver Volvo.

He paused before he climbed out of the car, tilting his head thoughtfully. "You might not want to let House know I said anything."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know...just seems like I said too much, that's all."

Anthony twisted his mouth as he considered Wilson's words. "You probably did. If Greg had wanted me to know...he probably would have told me."

Wilson winced at Anthony's painful honesty. "I probably deserved that."

"Maybe I'm being a little harsh." Anthony admitted. "It's just that...he's just starting to trust me a little. I don't want to do anything to destroy that."

Wilson knew Anthony meant to be comforting, but he just wound up feeling worse as he thought about all the times he had broken House's trust over the years. "I've got to go. Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. See you around."

Anthony watched Wilson climb into his car and pull out. He hadn't meant to be hard on the man, but there was just some protective instinct that had started to kick in regarding House.

Anthony wasn't trying to shelter House. Far from it. He just wanted to continue to build up what little trust House had in him. It was coming, but very slowly. If anything happened to destroy that, he could kiss whatever they had going goodbye. While a life without House in it wouldn't be the end of the world for him, it would definitely leave a gaping hole in his life and his heart.

He turned out of the parking lot, heading back to House's. Chances were good that he was still sleeping, so perhaps he'd be able to get in a little more reading and a cup of coffee before he headed into work. As much as he loved having House around, he did still value his private time. It was another reason he was reluctant to live with another person, although, given a big enough place...there was a slight possibility he could make the accommodation for House. The other man seemed to need his privacy almost as much as Anthony did.

He chided himself for even thinking about it. Things were far too new to consider such things, and he set the thought aside as he drove back to House's. Things were working out just fine, and they'd be better if he just let them be. Yes, definitely.

# # #

House was leaning against the doorframe of the main entrance to his building when Anthony returned, and Anthony could see a glint of something in his hand as he twirled them around.

He casually tossed the metal object at Anthony, who easily caught them as he approached the front stoop. "Don't know how the hell you planned on getting back in."

"How do you know I was coming back?" Anthony asked lightly.

"You left your bag behind." House replied. "You never go anywhere without the damn thing."

Anthony's mouth twisted in a smile as he started to unlock the door. House stopped him with one hand. "It's already open, you idiot." He growled. "Those are yours...if you want them."

Anthony raised his eyebrows in response. "You're sure." It was more a statement than a question.

House shrugged. "Seems only fair somehow." He shivered against the morning chill. "You mind going in? I'm freezing out here."

"Ever the romantic." Anthony rolled his eyes and entered the apartment, House close behind him. The older man closed the door to the apartment and caught Anthony around the waist, pulling him in close and placing a firm kiss on his neck. "Okay, okay...I was kidding."

"I'm not." House spoke quietly, keeping a firm grip on Anthony and nuzzling his neck. "I know I was wasted when I said it, but I still meant it."

"I don't doubt you." Anthony's voice caught in his throat as House continued to work his way tenderly down his neck. "Now if you could quit doubting _yourself_..."

"I wouldn't be me." House murmured. "When's your first client?"

Anthony chuckled, turning around to face House and wrapping his arms around him. "I've got time." He captured House's lips in a brief kiss, wrinkling his nose slightly. "You taste like a distillery."

"Mood killer." House growled, leaning in for another kiss. "Hmm...you taste like..." He kissed Anthony one more time. "...just coffee. Run out of smokes this morning?"

"Nah, I quit again."

"Good." House kissed the younger man's forehead. "I wasn't interested in racing you to the ultimate finish line." He blinked and rubbed his tired eyes. "Can't believe I'm saying this...but I think I just want to go back to sleep. I feel like shit."

"Do you want company?"

House shrugged. "If you want..." He suddenly stopped himself, looking directly into Anthony's eyes. "Yes. I want company."

A warm smile spread across Anthony's face. "You go ahead. I'll be there in a minute."

House nodded and limped slowly across the room and down the hallway. When he was a safe distance away, Anthony pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial, waiting for the other person to pick up. "Hi, Shelby. It's Tony. What time's my first client today?" A slow smile crept across his face. "Not til ten? Perfect. Oh, I'll be running a little late today, but I'll be there in time to set up." He chuckled at his office manager. "No, nothing's wrong. Matter of fact, everything's just fine...Yep, I'll see you when I get there. Bye."

He closed his phone and shoved it in his pocket, following House's path down the hallway and into the bedroom. The older man was already curled up on his side near the middle of the bed, the sleeve of his t-shirt riding up slightly to expose that muscular arm. His face wore a frown, almost as if he was thinking in his sleep. For all Anthony knew, he very well could be.

Anthony stripped off his jeans and fleece and climbed in next to House so that he faced him, slipping an arm over House's waist and a hand under his t-shirt. He still smelled a little bit like last night's bourbon, but mostly he just smelled like..._House._

House's hand took a similar position, pulling the younger man closer to him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He sure as hell wouldn't have turned down sex with the man, but right now...this was just as good.

He was just starting to drift off again when he heard his alarm going off. _So much for that plan_. He thought to himself as he reached over Anthony to hit the snooze button. _Just five more minutes, then I'll get up._

Those five minutes passed much faster than he wanted them to, and House finally turned off the alarm, reluctant to leave the warm bed and the man he was sharing it with. He propped himself up on his elbow, tracing over the contours of Anthony's chiseled features, only now noticing the fine lines around the younger man's eyes and mouth.

One green eye languidly opened at House's touch, and a slow smile changed the contours of Anthony's face. He took House's hand and lightly kissed the palm, gently looking up at him. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah." House rumbled roughly. "Lives to save, clinic duty to avoid, best friends to harass. The usual."

"Hmm...too bad." Anthony lightly stroked House's palm with his thumb, looking ponderous. "You remember anything about last night? Seriously."

House frowned thoughtfully. "Most of it. Why?"

Anthony briefly debated not mentioning the incident in question at all, tossing the idea aside. Once he brought it up, House wouldn't let it go until he got to the bottom of the mystery. He took a short breath before continuing. "You called me 'baby'."

House looked decidedly uncomfortable, looking away and pulling his hand away to move down Anthony's shoulder. "Right. About that..."

"It's a Drew thing." Anthony quickly blurted out. "He always used to call me 'Tony baby'."

House huffed in irritation, glaring down at Anthony. "Why the hell didn't you say so?"

"You were trashed." Anthony snapped. "You didn't know what you were saying."

"The hell I didn't." House's voice dropped to a low tone. "I was there. I know damn well what I said."

"It doesn't matter anyway." Anthony rolled away from House and pushed himself out of bed. "It was stupid of me to get all upset."

House rolled his eyes and climbed out of the other side of the bed, circling the bed to meet Anthony before he could leave the room. He grabbed Anthony by his upper arms and bent down to cover the younger man's lips with a firm kiss. "Deflecting is my thing. You can't do my thing."

Anthony made a halfhearted attempt to pull away from House, but there was no escaping his strong grip or the intense gaze of his blue eyes. "I'm not deflecting. I'm just saying..." He glanced up at House. "...maybe I overreacted a little."

House nodded, the puzzle finally making sense. He pressed a kiss to Anthony's forehead and released him, stepping away from him. "Guess you'd better get going."

Anthony studied House's face, trying to get a read on him. "Are you mad at me?"

House frowned a little, tilting his head thoughtfully. "No, not mad." He lightly stroked the younger man's cheek. "Just know that this sharing thing goes both ways...kind of like me." He smirked and winked at Anthony.

Anthony snorted and dropped his head, feeling the tension finally break between them. He wrapped his arms around House in a long hug. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

"Hopefully what you've been doing all along." House returned the hug, setting his chin on Anthony's shoulder and taking in his crisp scent. "It's working for me."

Anthony finally released him and turned to find his clothes, pulling the fleece over his head and tugging his jeans over his body. House had taken a seat on the edge of the bed, looking much the worse for wear after his night out, absentmindedly rubbing his thigh. Anthony took a seat next to him before he left the room, rubbing the older man between his shoulder blades. "I've got to take off. Anything you need before I go?"

"Nah, I'm good." House shook his head. "Be better once I'm up and around."

"Okay. Call me later?"

"Sure."

House heard Anthony rattle around, gathering his things before closing the door behind him. After he left, House flopped back on the bed. He still felt like crap, but he had to get moving. Cuddy would have his head if he wandered in late, and he honestly didn't want to do anything to piss the woman off.

He groaned and pushed himself off the bed. A few more hours of sleep and possibly some Vicodin would have had him feeling right in no time.

The sudden Vicodin thought caught him off guard. He hadn't even thought about it in months, not since doing detox at Mayfield. Come to think of it...House snorted to himself as he made the connection. Right now he was feeling the way he did during detox. Perhaps not _that_ bad, but close enough that his brain made the connection.

He found some clothes and limped down to the bathroom. The room still smelled of Anthony, that increasingly familiar crisp, clean scent. He stripped down and stepped into the steaming hot shower, finally starting to feel somewhat human. A couple of cups of Anthony's coffee and he'd be good to go again, ready to take on Cuddy, the team, Wilson, hell, even clinic duty.

As he limped around the apartment drinking coffee, he pulled out his phone to scroll through his text messages with the intention of clearing them out. He got to the last one he'd received from Anthony last night. That one, House decided, was a keeper.

He tucked the phone in his pocket, packing up his backpack and shoving his feet into shoes as he gathered up his jacket, helmet and cane. Finally he was ready to go, and he locked the door behind him. He made a note to let Wilson know that he was getting too old for this crap. Matter of fact, Wilson's office was going to be his first stop when he got in that morning. He hoped that the younger man had taken plenty of pain meds along with his coffee. He was going to need it.

# # #

House arrived on the fourth floor with every intention of harassing Wilson, but was instead greeted by a very serious looking Foreman. The neurologist handed the file to House the minute he stepped off the elevator, rattling off symptoms.

"Slow down, Foreman." House growled as they strode down the hall towards diagnostics. His head was starting to throb as the hangover kicked in full force.

Foreman followed the older doctor into his office, cautiously observing him as he hung up his jacket and set down his backpack, unzipping it to pull out the travel mug that he frequently carried with him these days. It was only when House took off the sunglasses as sat heavily in his desk chair that Foreman showed anything resembling alarm. "House...?"

"Hangover." House snapped, logging into his computer. "Goddamn Wilson dragged me out to the bar last night for a hockey game, which the Devils _lost_, by the way." He nodded his head toward the file in Foreman's hand. "Let's see it."

House started to scan through the file, his mind already starting to drop pieces into place. He handed it back to Foreman. "Gather up the kids and start doing your thing. I'll be there in a minute."

Foreman nodded, turning on his heel and disappearing through the conference room door. House returned to checking his e-mail, clicking on one from Cuddy. Normally he would ignore such things, but the subject line caught his attention.

He printed out the e-mail and set it in front of him on the desk. _Your hearing with the board has been scheduled for December 5th, 2009._ Dammit. He had nearly managed to forget that there was still more hoops for him to jump through on his way back to something resembling normal.

House opened the small drawer directly in front of him, rooting around in search of a highlighter. Instead his fingers closed around an achingly familiar prescription bottle, and he slowly pulled it out of the desk, turning it over in his hand. He thought all stashes had been cleaned out...so what the hell was this doing here?

He shook the bottle in his old habit, trying to guess how many pills were in the bottle based on the rattle. Out of curiosity, he opened the bottle to see how close his guess was. The pills fell out into his hand, white and smooth, and he rolled them around in his hand, his heart pounding as he counted them. _One won't hurt...my head's killing me...damn that Wilson anyway..._

"House? House!" Someone was shaking his shoulder, and House blearily opened his eyes. He looked down at his now-shaking hands. No prescription bottle, no Vicodin. Foreman was looking down at him with raised eyebrows. "We're ready to start whenever you are."

House blinked, glancing around the desk. He could have sworn he had printed out that e-mail. Of course, he also thought he had found that bottle of Vicodin. Finally he shook his head, pushing himself out of the chair. "On my way."

Foreman gave him an odd look, but proceeded to the conference room. House closed his eyes and leaned heavily on the desk, willing the room to just _stop spinning_ already. If this was a hangover, it had to be the grand mother of them all.

He finally oriented himself enough to grab his cane and his travel mug, limping heavily into the conference room. Foreman was already scribbling on the whiteboard, and Taub and Thirteen were actively discussing the case at hand. House, for a change, was content to find a chair and fall into it, letting Foreman take the lead.

Taub arched an eyebrow, and Thirteen merely looked puzzled and a little horrified at House's condition. "What happened to you?" She blurted out.

House groaned inwardly and glared at Thirteen. "Turns out there _is _such a thing as too much fun." He leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees, waving at Foreman. "As you were."

Foreman frowned as he continued to write on the board, trying to squelch his growing concern over House's bizarre behavior. If it continued, he would have no choice but to report it to Cuddy. It was as if he were doing two differentials at once. House would be proud if he weren't so out of it.

_Please, God. Let it be anything else other than what I think it is._ Foreman sent up a quick prayer to a God he wasn't sure he believed in any more. At this point, watching House become increasingly distant, he would take all the help he could get.

# # #

**It's all yours now. Read and review. :)**


	33. Chapter 33

**Back again with my usual disclaimers, and my humble apologies for any medical mistakes. No flames, please. :)**

# # #

Four pagers went off at once, cutting off Foreman's thoughts. Taub and Thirteen dashed out of the conference room, with Foreman close behind.

He quickly realized one of them was missing. Foreman turned to see House standing in the hallway, leaning heavily on his cane, looking confused and disoriented. "House? Are you coming?"

The older doctor slowly lifted his head, blinking as he stared at Foreman. He fumbled at the still screeching pager at his hip, automatically glancing at the screen before shutting it off and attempting to clip it back on his pocket. It took him three or four tries, and Foreman could see his increasing frustration.

Foreman waved the other doctors off. "Go deal with the patient. I'll deal with House." Taub and Thirteen looked at each other with worried expressions before nodding and trotting down the hallway to the elevator. The neurologist carefully approached House, still not sure what he was dealing with.

"House." His tone turned gentle as he reached out to touch the older man's shoulder. "Come on, let's get you to your office."

House's head suddenly jerked up, an expression of equal parts fear and anger crossing his face. "Get off me." He was shaking under Foreman's hand. "You're not putting me back in there."

_Shit._ This was going to be tougher than Foreman had anticipated. He calculated his chances of being able to physically overpower House on his own and came up short. It looked like he was going to have to handle this in the hallway.

"House." Foreman dropped his voice to a low tone and backed away slightly, his mind already starting the differential on his boss. "Something's wrong. We need to figure it out, but we can't do it here."

House tried to focus on the blurry figure in front of him, but it was as if he were underwater. The word that came out of what might have been the figure's mouth were muffled and warped. Nothing was making sense. All he knew was that he had to get away, _now._

Foreman took out his penlight and dared to get close enough to shine the light in his eyes. The pupils were reacting. _Probably not drugs. Good._ It didn't put Foreman much closer to an answer, but at least he could cross one thing off the whiteboard in his head.

House's bloodshot eyes went wide as he backed away from Foreman, squeezing his eyes against the bright light. "What the hell are you doing?! Get away from me!" He suddenly bolted and staggered down the hallway, and Foreman had to hurry to catch up. Even under the best of circumstances the man was almost impossible to keep up with, and now, driven by panic and fear, Foreman found himself unable to catch him.

House stumbled and flew forward, instinctively reaching out to catch himself as he landed hard near Wilson's office door. The door flew open, and Wilson stuck his head out, baffled by the heavy thud.

"What the..." He looked down to see House splayed out on the floor, Foreman racing to catch up with him. "House?! Foreman, what happened?!"

"Don't know." Foreman was breathing heavily as he dropped down next to the older doctor. "He told me he was hungover, but this isn't like any hangover I've ever seen. The man couldn't even participate in the differential."

Wilson's eyebrows knit together in worry before coming to a decision. "Turn him over and grab his feet. We'll get him into my office and go from there."

It took both of them to roll House over onto his back, and his eyes fluttered open at the movement, his breathing labored. He frowned as he attempted to focus on the figure at his head, finally seeming to recognize Wilson. "Wilson?" He mumbled softly.

"Yes, House. It's me."

House blinked, regarding Wilson with an almost child-like expression. "Don't feel so good."

"I know." Wilson spoke in soothing tones. "We're going to take care of you."

House seemed to nod in understanding, glancing at the figure that held his feet. His eyes went wide again, and he immediately kicked out, catching Foreman by surprise. He quickly grabbed them again, already feeling the strain as House fought against his grip.

"I'm _not_ going back!" House flailed and twisted as the two men struggled to keep hold of him long enough to get him into Wilson's office. "Can't...can't make me..." His expression looked pained as he tried to focus on Wilson again. "You lied to me..."

Between the two of them, Wilson and Foreman managed to get House to the couch in Wilson's office. Foreman quickly closed the door while Wilson bent down next to the couch in an attempt to get House's attention. The older man merely turned away, curling himself into a ball on the couch with his back to Wilson.

"House..." Wilson leaned over House, reaching out to touch the other man on the shoulder. "You're not where you think you are."

House squeezed his eyes shut, recoiling from Wilson's touch. There was too much noise in his head, too many voices. Something was horribly, horribly wrong, but he couldn't voice it, couldn't wrap his mind around it. _No, not again...this can't be happening again...what the hell is wrong with me? Why is it so goddamn hot in here? My head's killing me...never drinking with Wilson again..._

House felt cool hands on him, and he could hear voices swirling around him, the line between real and unreal fading as he floated in a haze, completely unaware of the growing chaos surrounding him.

"House? House!" A voice pierced the growing fog, but House couldn't place it. "We're taking you to the ER. You're burning up."

"N-n-nooo..." House's voice was soft, but still panic-stricken. He tried to get up, but something was holding him down. "Not going..."

"We've got to, House." Wilson leaned down over the gurney in a vain attempt to sooth his friend. He hadn't been so scared for House since that drive to Mayfield all those months ago. "You've just got to trust me."

A mocking voice seemed to whisper in House's ear. _Oh yes, trust him. Great plan. He'll take you right back to the funny farm where you belong._

"No...he wouldn't do that..."

_Wouldn't he? _Something bared its teeth and laughed at him. _What about that leg of yours? Seems like you trusted someone to take care of that for you, too. Look how that turned out._

"Wasn't...trying...to hurt me..."

The thing shook what appeared to be its head. _And yet...she did anyway. _The thing came into focus, morphing into a familiar shape. _Haven't we learned that we can't trust anyone?_

House's eyes flew open as he screamed and arched up with such force that he nearly tore through the restraints. Foreman was shaking as he ran alongside the gurney on the way to the ER. He had been angry, exasperated, and irritated with the man over the years he had worked for House.

This was the first time he had ever been scared, both for him and of him. Whatever this was, Foreman needed to figure it out, and fast. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the clock was ticking on House.

# # #

Anthony wrapped up his last appointment of the morning and plopped down in a chair in the front office. For some reason his schedule had been busier than usual, and that combined with his lack of sleep the night before left him feeling rougher than usual.

Shelby, his office manager, looked upon him with great amusement. She couldn't help but notice the changes that had come over Anthony since he had started seeing this new man. He seemed more relaxed and peaceful, if that were even possible, and would even venture information about him. In the five years that she had worked with Anthony, he had rarely talked about the men in his life, and Shelby was under the impression that there had been more than a few.

"Late night?" She teased.

Anthony rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair. "Had to play designated driver for Greg and his friend last night." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found House in his contacts and hitting send.

As he expected, House's voice mail picked up. "Hey, hon. Figured I'd check in and see how you were doing. Call me when you get this." He snapped his phone closed and held it in his hand. Typically House would call back within a few minutes, either arranging to meet for lunch or to let him know he was wrapped up in a case and couldn't get away.

Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, and he still hadn't heard from House. Anthony called him one more time, once again connecting with House's voice mail. "Hey, Greg. Not trying to stalk you, but...just call me back." He closed the phone and stuck it in his pocket. "Guess I'm on my own for lunch. I'll be back in a few." He rose from the chair, touching Shelby's desk as he passed. "Do you want anything?"

"Nope, all good." Shelby held up the sandwich she was working her way through. "See you in a few."

Anthony found his jacket and left the building, enjoying the cool autumn breeze as he walked down to the small sandwich shop down the street. He considered leaving House one more voice mail, but if he was just busier than usual, he didn't want to bother the man. Still...he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

House had seemed more or less fine when Anthony left him that morning, aside from being hung over and running short on sleep. Finally he pushed his worry aside. There had to be a perfectly logical explanation for House not returning his call, and damned if Anthony was going to go too crazy over it. It's not as if they were joined at the hip or anything.

Anthony smiled to himself at the thought as he tossed the remains of his lunch and started the short walk back to his office. He and House might not be joined at the hip, but they had gotten very close in a remarkably short time. _Maybe just one more call...just in case._ Anthony listened as House's phone rang, thoroughly expecting to get his voice mail again.

On the other end of the line, it was barely controlled chaos as Wilson, Foreman, and the ER staff worked over House. His personal items had been tossed in a small basket as House was being transitioned from staff to patient.

Foreman was closest, and he kept hearing some song as he worked over House. "What the hell is that?!"

Wilson nodded toward the basket. "It's his phone."

"Who would be calling him?" Foreman muttered before he realized what he was saying.

"Just hand it here." Wilson snapped. As Foreman passed him the phone, the old Queen song came belting out of it again. Wilson glanced at the Caller ID. Just as he thought. "I'm going to take this. It's House's..." He stopped, not sure what to call Anthony.

"Fine. Whatever." Foreman waved Wilson away, too wrapped up in what he was doing to be concerned. "We've got this handled."

Wilson nodded as he flipped open the phone and found a less chaotic part of the ER. "Hello?"

"Wilson?" Anthony was baffled. "Where's Greg?"

Wilson took a deep breath before answering. "We've got him down in the ER. He's...sick."

"Shit." Anthony stopped mid-stride, fear clutching at him. "Like...physically sick?"

"Near as we can tell." Wilson paused, not sure how to continue. "How much has he told you about...things?"

Anthony impatiently rolled his eyes on the other end of the phone as he continued walking, briskly striding into his office. "He's told me about his voluntary commitment, yes." Shelby gave him a funny look as paced around the office. "Why?"

Wilson sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't want to say what he was thinking. He was almost ashamed of himself for even thinking it.

"You think there's more to it." Anthony's words seemed to pierce the silence between them.

"It's hard to say." Wilson admitted. "We won't know for sure until we get his fever under control."

Anthony sucked in a sharp breath. "Jesus. It's that bad?"

"Yes." Wilson fought to keep his voice from shaking.

"I'm coming down there." Anthony closed his phone before Wilson could respond. "Shelby, what's my schedule look like this afternoon?"

"Pretty light. Nothing until 3:30."

Anthony nodded. "See if you can get a hold of Maria and ask her if she'd like to pick up some more clinical hours. Otherwise, cancel. I've got..." He paused, looking thoughtful. "...a family emergency."

Shelby nodded, picking up the phone and smiling to herself just a little as she called the student massage therapist. Whoever this guy was, he must mean a hell of a lot to Anthony if he was willing to drop everything and go to him. She just hoped the other man appreciated what Anthony was doing for him.

# # #

"Wilson!" The oncologist turned at the sound of Anthony's voice ringing out in the ER waiting area. "Where is he?"

"Still in the ER." Wilson's voice was strained with worry. "They're trying to do tests on him, but he's putting up one hell of a fight."

Anthony would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious. "I've often heard that doctors are the worst patients..."

"You have no idea." Wilson snapped. "House is a worse patient than anyone I've ever known."

A piercing scream cut through the air, followed by crashing and the sound of raised voices. Anthony had heard a similar scream once out of House, following a particularly nasty nightmare that House had refused to talk about.

The double doors banged open, and Foreman rushed out. "Wilson, I..." He noticed Anthony standing with Wilson, and Foreman pointed at him. "You. Come with me."

Anthony was puzzled, but followed the neurologist anyway. Once just inside the double doors, Foreman stopped him. "I need to draw blood and do what's called a lumbar puncture." He explained. "He won't let anyone touch him, but I can't sedate him. It'll throw off our findings."

Anthony nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

Foreman huffed in frustration. "Calm him down, if you can. He's so out of it that he doesn't recognize anyone, and he's lashing out at anyone who tries to get near him."

More crashing followed more screaming, and Foreman rushed back to the bed, followed closely by Anthony.

The sight that greeted Anthony made his heart leap into his throat. House was strapped down to the bed, sweat pouring off him as he fought the restraints. The blue eyes were wild and unfocused, unintelligible sounds falling from his dry lips. Instinctively, Anthony curled his fingers around House's hand, startled by the heat that radiated from it.

Suddenly Anthony wanted nothing more than to take the older man into his arms and hold him close, to somehow comfort him. The best he could do was hold House's hand a little tighter and reach out to stroke the top of his head.

House seemed to turn toward the touch, a brief flash of curiosity showing on his face. He could just make out the figure next to him, and he knew he should recognize it.

"Who's that?" Someone snapped. "Medical personnel in this area only. He'll have to wait outside."

"He's with me." Foreman snarled in response.

"If it's going to cause a problem..." Anthony trailed off reluctantly, starting to release House's hand.

The strong fingers gripped tighter. "Nooo..." House murmured. "Need you here..."

Foreman shot Anthony an 'I-told-you-so' look. "You're not going anywhere." He quickly pulled two vials out of his lab coat pocket and shoved a needle into House's arm, filling both vials and handing them off to a nearby nurse. "Full tox screen and complete infection panel."

The nurse nodded firmly and rushed off to start the paperwork. Foreman glanced at the monitors with an expression of equal parts concern and concentration. House's temperature was still hovering around 103 degrees despite all efforts at cooling him, and his breathing was ragged, his pulse erratic. The earlier delirium seemed to have passed, and the man seemed calmer in Anthony's presence. Whether that qualified as improvement remained to be seen, but House at least seemed stable for the time being. Perhaps Foreman would be able to hold off on that lumbar puncture after all.

House was still tugging against the restraints, but it seemed to be a more conscious effort to get to the man that sat beside him rather than out of pure panic. Anthony noticed the movement, and looked up at Foreman with an almost pleading expression. "Do you suppose it's safe to let him out?"

Foreman looked doubtful. If Anthony had witnessed House's behavior earlier, Foreman was sure he wouldn't even dare ask the question. "He seems stable enough for now. If he starts freaking out again..."

"I know." Anthony spoke softly as Foreman carefully undid one wrist and one leg. House immediately rolled toward Anthony, groaning as his body weight pressed on his right leg. "Any way we can switch sides?"

Foreman mentally smacked himself in the forehead. In all the drama surrounding House's sudden illness, the leg had completely escaped him. "Sure."

He quickly switched out the restraints as Anthony moved to the other side of the bed. House's eyes fluttered open at the movement, still not clear on what was happening around him. He kept getting moved around, but he didn't feel like he was going anywhere. _That voice_ was still whispering in his ear. _See? They're going to leave us here. They're abandoning us. They've given up._

"Nooo..." House reached out for Anthony, clumsily pulling him close. "...Still here..."

"Yes, I'm still here." Anthony wrapped his arms around House the best he could. He wasn't entirely sure House recognized him, but if he could provide some comfort, he figured it didn't matter who House thought he was. "I'm not leaving."

"Told you..." House mumbled, closing his eyes.

_We're going to trust this guy?! _The voice barked out a laugh. _We barely know him!_

House's eyes flew open, attempting to focus on the blurry figure that was holding him. "Don't let them take me." His body started shaking, and Anthony could swear that he was getting hotter by the second.

"Doctor Foreman!" Anthony yelled across the ER. "I think he's getting worse!"

Foreman rushed over, noting the change in the monitors. House's respiration, temperature, and heart rate were all rising, and the area surrounding House became a hotbed of activity as medical personnel rushed to work over him. "Get out of the way, man." Foreman spoke sharply, nearly shoving Anthony aside.

House's eyes widened as he tightened his grip on Anthony's hand. He seemed to silently plead with him not to leave.

_Told you we couldn't trust him._ The voice seemed almost resigned. _He's no better than anyone else._

Anthony narrowed his eyes and returned to House's bedside. "I'm staying. Work around me."

Foreman didn't know whether to be frustrated or pleased with Anthony's tenacity. "Fine, but don't get in the way."

House's body finally stilled as the cooling blankets had their desired effect, and Anthony could feel House's hold relax. His breathing was still ragged, but he seemed calmer now. Anthony simply stroked House's head, as much to reassure himself as to soothe House.

Foreman blew out a long sigh. Between House and their current case, it had been a stressful morning, and it looked like it was far from over. He knew that Wilson would be reluctant to authorize any treatment without knowing the cause, and Foreman was equally reluctant to go against Wilson's wishes. If it were up to House...

Right now, it wasn't up to House. Foreman frowned as he waited impatiently for the lab results. He was debating whether House was stable enough to be moved to the ICU when he heard a ragged sigh coming from the bed, accompanied by an unfamiliar sound.

Anthony was talking to House, holding his hand while he stroked the back of the older man's head. House was...crying? No, that couldn't be right. The man never showed any emotion outside of anger and the occasional smirk of joy when he found the answer to his human puzzles. And yet...

Foreman's ringing phone interrupted his thoughts, and he turned away to answer it. "Foreman." He listened as the lab tech rattled off the results of the blood samples. Nothing in the tox screen except what was supposed to be there.

The results of the infection panel were less clear, and Foreman's heart sank with disappointment. He'd been hoping to avoid a lumbar puncture, but now it appeared he had no other choice if he wanted to confirm exactly what was affecting House. He thanked the lab tech and closed his phone, returning to House's bedside.

He cleared his throat to get Anthony's attention, trying to ignore the choked sobs coming from the figure curled up on the bed. "I'm going to need your help with something."

"Sure." Anthony nodded. "Whatever I can do."

Foreman prepared for the procedure, explaining what he needed Anthony to do as he undid House's remaining restraints. Soon Anthony had House in position, wrapping one arm under House's knees and the other around House's back.

"Wha...what's happening...?" House murmured, staring at Anthony.

"Something called a lumbar puncture." Anthony whispered back. "They're going to use it to find out what's wrong with you."

House's mouth twisted into something resembling a smirk. "Not gonna help."

"Stop it." Anthony couldn't help but chuckle a little. "They're going to find out what's _physically_ wrong."

"Gonna hurt." House's face turned somber. "Tired of hurting..."

"I know." Anthony spoke softly. "Just hang in there a little longer, okay? I'm right here with you."

"Tried to tell you..." House's voice trailed off, and his eyes lost focus. He reached up to place a hand on Anthony's cheek. "You've got such pretty eyes..."

"Is that right?" Anthony glanced over House's body at Foreman, who nodded in encouragement. Anything that would distract House from what was happening couldn't be a bad thing.

"Mm-hm." House murmured, clearly lost in his own world. "You should go. If he catches you here...we're both dead meat." He winced as the needle stabbed into his back. "Oww..."

"Almost there, hon." Anthony kept a tight hold on House, even as he started to struggle. Finally Foreman nodded, and Anthony released him. "There, all done."

One look at the cloudy liquid in the vial he had collected from House told Foreman what he needed to know. "It's definitely an infection. Now we just need to know what it is so we can treat it."

Anthony was visibly relieved. "So it is treatable, then."

"It usually is." Foreman answered. "It's just a matter of how. Who knows? He might even come out of this undamaged."

The possibility of any long term damage hadn't even crossed Anthony's mind until Foreman mentioned it. "Guess it's a little soon to celebrate, huh?"

"Just a little." Foreman labeled the vial and handed it off to a nurse with instructions to expedite the lab work. He folded his arms across his chest as he studied Anthony. "It was good of you to stick with him."

"What else was I supposed to do?" Anthony's voice came out a little harsher than he intended. "He needed me...or whoever he thought I was."

"He obviously trusted you." Foreman spoke firmly. He'd seen enough stressed out family members of patients to know not to take Anthony's words personally. "I don't think you realize how huge that is."

Anthony looked down at House as he stroked the top of his head. House's eyes were still glazed and unfocused, and yet there was a softness there as he raised a shaking hand to Anthony's cheek. "You're still here."

"Yep." Anthony smiled warmly and rested his hand on top of House's still-hot one.

House's face fell. "She left me, you know."

"I know."

"I miss her." House's voice started to choke up.

"I know you do, hon."

House's eyes suddenly closed, and a shaky sigh escaped him. He was exhausted and hurting, still struggling to find the line between real and unreal. The face near him seemed real enough, as did the hand that covered his own. It would do until he found his way out of this seemingly endless maze he found himself in.

_You're an idiot, House._ The voice hissed._ How do we know we can trust him? For all we know, he could do you like Stacy did. Just turn your back on him one time..._

"Fuck off." House mumbled. "Leave me alone..."

_I'm just saying._ The figure folded its arms, obviously miffed. _You don't even know if that's really him. He could be a mirage. Whooo..._

House started shaking again, and his eyes flew open, filling with fear and panic. Anthony could feel House's fingers curl against his face as he tightened them into a fist, scratching Anthony as he did so.

Anthony bit back a small hiss of pain, not wanting to scare House any more than he obviously already was. "Doctor Foreman...something's going on..."

The tense tone in Anthony's voice made Foreman turn around, and he quickly moved to his side in an attempt to evaluate House's condition.

House seemed to ignore Foreman, instead focusing on Anthony. "Help me."

Before Anthony could answer, House's eyes rolled back into his head as his whole body was wracked with spasms. Anthony was wide-eyed with horror. "What the hell...?"

"He's seizing." Foreman snapped. "_Now_ you've got to get out of here."

Anthony was reluctant, but Foreman shoved him aside as other members of the ER staff arrived. "He won't even know you're gone. I'll update you as soon as I can. Now _get out._"

Anthony's heart was pounding in his chest as he rubbed the side of his face. He couldn't remember ever feeling such fear for another person. House had to make it through. He just had to.

# # #

**Okay, readers, go forth and review!**


	34. Chapter 34

**Another long winded one here. I don't own Wilson or Foreman, just the O/Cs.**

# # #

Wilson was pacing around the ER waiting area, jerking around every time he heard the double doors bang open. The screaming seemed to have stopped, at least, and for that Wilson was grateful. He could only imagine what House was seeing to trigger that sort of reaction. It was like nothing he had ever heard.

The double doors slammed open once again, and Anthony emerged, holding one side of his face. He looked stunned and shaken as he approached one of the chairs and slowly eased himself into it. Wilson immediately took a seat next to him.

"Let me see." Wilson gently took Anthony's hand and pulled it down to examine his face. He had four long scratches starting at his cheekbone and extending nearly to his jaw. They were bleeding slightly, and Wilson couldn't help but let out a small gasp of shock. "You should get those checked out."

"It's not that serious." Anthony spoke quietly, brushing away a few escaping tears with his thumb. "Dammit."

Wilson reached out to squeeze Anthony on the shoulder, not sure how he would take the gesture. "Are you okay?"

Anthony snorted and shook his head. The irony was almost too much. "I'm not the one dying. Pretty sure I'll be okay."

Wilson sighed and retracted his hand, slumping down in the seat as he watched the other man carefully. Anthony seemed deep in thought, stretching out his long legs in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. He wrapped his arms around himself as if trying to protect himself from something, and Wilson wondered what it might be.

Finally Foreman pushed his way through the double doors, striding over to Wilson. "Need you for a minute."

Wilson touched Anthony briefly on the shoulder before rising to meet with Foreman. "I'll be right back to fill you in."

"Okay." Anthony barely heard him. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, wondering if he had somehow missed something in House's behavior. Maybe he could have caught whatever it was sooner, and things wouldn't have escalated to this point. He shifted in the chair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, allowing his face to drop into his hands.

"Tony?" Wilson bent down in front of Anthony, placing a hand on his upper arm. Anthony lifted his head, a calm expression taking over his features. "He's stable. They're moving him up to ICU."

Anthony nodded, still stunned by the afternoon's events. "How soon before I can see him?"

Wilson's brows knitted in a frown. "He's still unconscious, and likely to be for a while yet."

"Oh." Anthony slumped slightly in the chair, still staring at the floor.

Wilson sighed and stuck his hands in his pants pockets, tilting his head at Anthony. "You know...I've got a few things to wrap up in the office, then I'm leaving. Do you want to go get a beer or something?"

"No, thanks though." Anthony rose and gave Wilson a brief hug. "I think I'll just head on."

Wilson returned the hug, patting Anthony's back. "I'll keep you posted, okay?"

"I'd appreciate that." Anthony smiled for the first time in hours. "See you around."

Wilson watched the other man go, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he disappeared out of sight. "Hey, Lillian. Are you free tonight?"

"Sure, James." Michaels smiled on the other end of the phone. "Let me just finish up here and I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Sounds good." Wilson smiled at the sound of her voice, already feeling some of the afternoon's stress melting away. "See you in a few."

Something sounded off in Wilson's tone to Michaels. "Is everything okay?"

"I'll tell you about it later. See you soon."

"Bye." Michaels closed her phone and finished up the chart she was working on. She looked forward to seeing Wilson, but his tone of voice had her worried. Hopefully he would open up to her a bit as the evening wore on, but if he chose not to, that would be okay, too. Time spent with Wilson was never time wasted as far as she was concerned.

# # #

Wilson wandered around the lobby, his mind replaying the events of the day. House was medically stable, at least for the time being, but fear still played in the back of his mind. What if the infection was merely a coincidence? If his delusions weren't due to the infection, would Anthony stick around, or would sole responsibility for House's care once again fall to Wilson?

Perhaps he wasn't giving the other man enough credit. After all, House had supposedly let him in on his stint at Mayfield, and Anthony had not only stuck around, but had reached out to him, shown him affection, maybe even love. Even in his brief observations of the two of them, Wilson could see them growing closer.

It was a good thing for House, even though Wilson still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea. He winced when he remembered the bit about the pillow. Even if House had been in a straight relationship, Wilson didn't necessarily want the physical evidence right there in front of him.

A touch at his waist made Wilson nearly jump out of his skin, and he spun around to see Michaels standing there, a small smile on her face. "Jumpy much?"

Wilson broke into a grin that made his eyes crinkle up. "Maybe a little." He bent down to give Michaels a brief kiss on the lips. "I was thinking about Thai takeout."

"There's a place on my way home." Michaels suggested. "Tell me what you want and we'll meet at my house."

"Sounds good." Wilson agreed with a teasing smile. "What if what I want isn't on the menu?"

Michaels laughed and reached up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. "I'm sure...alternative arrangements can be made."

Wilson gave Michaels his request and the two went their separate ways. Soon he was in his Volvo, his fingers drumming the steering wheel to some random song on the radio. He'd only been half kidding with his menu crack. Tonight, he felt as tightly wound as one of the strings on House's guitars.

Something about watching Anthony wait for word about House had triggered something deep inside Wilson. Maybe it was shared pain over House, or maybe it reminded him of waiting for Amber. Either way, it made him want to break every speed limit there was just to get to Michaels.

He soon pulled into her driveway, glad to see a light on in her house. After taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Wilson climbed out of the car and strode up the steps to her door, ringing the doorbell.

Michaels answered the door, already casually clad in a t-shirt and yoga pants that clung to every soft curve of her petite body. Her auburn hair was twisted into a soft pile on top of her head, with a few tendrils working their way loose to frame her soft face. "Come on in."

Wilson nodded, his eyes traveling over her. His heart pounded in his chest as his emotions threatened to take him over. God, he wanted to just pull her to him, to take in her soft vanilla scent, to know that there was something solid, something real, something that couldn't just be ripped away from him in at a moment's notice.

When Michaels turned away to pad into the kitchen, Wilson toed off his shoes and quickly followed her. She was opening a bottle of wine and humming to herself, that red hair starting to fall and brush the back of her graceful neck.

Wilson came up behind her, bracing his hands on either side of her to softly kiss her up the side of her neck before undoing her hair to let it tumble loose in his hands. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close to him, inhaling her sweet scent.

"James?" Michaels touched her hands to Wilson's. "What's going on?"

He chuckled and nuzzled her neck. "What do you think?"

Michaels turned around and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. "I think...there's more going on, and you _did_ say you would tell me later." She ran her fingers through his soft brown hair, and Wilson closed his eyes at the touch. "Guess what?"

"What...?" Wilson murmured.

"It's later." Michaels released him, gently pushing him away. "So...what's going on?"

Wilson sighed heavily, lightly stroking the side of Michaels' face. "It's House..." _God, it's always House, isn't it?_ "He...came down with some nasty infection, and Foreman and I had to...well, more Foreman than me..." He felt the lump growing in his throat as he relived the day. How could he even put all his emotions into words? His fear as House spiraled further downward, his jealousy as Foreman called Anthony in instead of him, his pain upon hearing his best friend's screams of panic from the ER, and his helplessness at being unable to do anything for him. Finally he took a shaky breath and spoke. "He's hurting, he's sick, and there's nothing I can do for him."

"Oh, James." Michaels quickly pulled Wilson in close, wrapping him in her soft arms. "Why didn't you say so? We didn't have to get together tonight, you know."

"Yes, we did." Wilson spoke softly, setting his chin on top of her head. "_I _needed this. I needed _you_." He moved to tilt her chin with one finger, capturing her lips in a tender kiss that soon became deeper, and Wilson pressed her body into the counter. "Let me take you to bed."

"You don't want your food?" Michaels gasped softly.

"Later." Wilson whispered. "Right now...you're the only thing on the menu."

They wasted no time getting to the bedroom, and Michaels gently pushed Wilson onto the bed, lithely straddling him and unbuttoning his shirt, running her fingers through the light hair that covered his chest and stomach. Wilson started to run his hands under her t-shirt, caressing the soft skin underneath, smoothing his hands up her back. He was pleased and thrilled to discover she wore no bra under the shirt. _Less to get in the way._ He smiled to himself and tugged the shirt over her head as she worked her way down, fixing him with that sweet smile as she unbuckled his pants and slid them off his body.

"Come here, you." Wilson softly murmured as he gently pulled Michaels up to lay beside him, admiring her curvy body with his hands and his eyes. He rolled her over onto her back and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, his breath catching in his throat as her tongue flicked out to meet his.

Wilson broke away to brush his lips down her throat, lightly caressing her breasts on his way to the waistband of her yoga pants. He tugged at the pants, and Michaels removed them the rest of the way, kicking them aside to spread herself before Wilson.

He took her in from head to toe, a slightly sad expression taking over his face. Michaels took his face in her hands, her eyelids hooded with desire as she gently caressed him. "Something wrong?"

Wilson shook his head. "You're just so...so beautiful. Guess I just wanted to make it last a little longer...or...something."

Michaels smiled a little, pulling him down to her for a long, sweet kiss. Wilson could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his hand moved down further, finding her center and stroking gently. She arched into his hand at the touch, spreading her legs a little further, encouraging him.

He brought her achingly close to the edge before pulling away to find a condom, wrapping himself up before slowly entering her. Wilson slid his hands under Michaels' shoulders to brace himself and soon found a steady rhythm, the soft moans encouraging him to speed up until she went over, her back arching as she did so, bringing Wilson along with her.

He collapsed against her shoulder, panting slightly from the exertion, a lump of emotion rising up in his throat as he kissed her fervently along her collarbone and shoulder. Something still raged in him, but he couldn't imagine what it could possibly be.

Michaels was surprised to feel wetness on her shoulder, and she heard the soft sounds of Wilson quietly sobbing into her shoulder. She simply wrapped her arms around him and let him go, allowing him to release whatever was bottled up inside him.

Finally Wilson took a deep, shaky breath and pushed himself off Michaels. "Sorry about that. I don't know what came over me."

"Don't apologize." Michaels told him firmly. "In an odd way, I'm kind of honored. Everyone needs someone they can unload on."

"I suppose." Wilson rolled off her, disposing of the condom and laying on his back, suddenly deep in thought again. Michaels curled up next to him, laying her head on his chest. She was so soft and warm and just so _right_ next to him. He almost felt like he was cheating on Amber.

He wrapped an arm around Michaels' shoulder, pulling her closer to him and kissing the top of her head. "What would you say if I told you I thought I might be falling for you?"

Michaels briefly lifted her head with a smile. "I think that would be a wonderful thing. I was kind of thinking the same thing."

Wilson's lips twisted in a small smile as he turned on his side, dropping his arm over Michaels' ribcage. "I still miss Amber sometimes."

"Of course you do. You loved her." Michaels slipped an arm over Wilson, pulling in close. "I still think about my husband sometimes. It doesn't mean I haven't moved on, and it doesn't mean I didn't love him."

Wilson nodded, no longer feeling quite so disloyal to Amber's memory. Life did go on, after all. He lightly kissed Michaels on the forehead before rolling away and out of bed. "Now I'm ready for food. Do you want yours?"

"Sure." Michaels rolled over to her back, listening as Wilson padded around the kitchen, gathering up the food and utensils. He soon returned with two containers and two pairs of chopsticks.

They spent the evening in bed, feeding each other and chatting about nothing in particular. It felt so easy and relaxed, and Wilson's heart felt lighter than it had in ages.

As they curled up in bed together that night, Wilson pressed up against Michaels, he couldn't help but finally feel a little hopeful for himself. Something had shifted tonight, but Wilson wasn't sure exactly when that had happened. It didn't matter to him right then. Right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

# # #

Anthony left the hospital that afternoon with a heavy heart. It pained him to leave House behind, but all that could be done for him was done, and according to Wilson and Foreman, it was a waiting game at this point.

He sighed as he scrolled through his contacts, finding Simon's number and hitting send. Simon picked up on the first ring. "Hey, Tony. What's shaking, honey?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Not much." Simon was cleaning up his photography studio for the evening. "Is Blue Eyes working late tonight?"

Anthony swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "Not exactly."

"Oh dear." Simon frowned. "Did you have a fight?"

"God, no!" Anthony climbed into his car and pulled out of his space, turning out onto the road. "He came down with some infection, and they had to hospitalize him." He was shaking as he drove, and he pulled into a parking lot to settle down.

"You're not trying to talk and drive right now, are you?" Simon's voice was sharp in his ear.

"No, no. I'm pulled over now." Anthony attempted to pull himself together enough to try to explain to Simon what was going on. "I don't know all the details. All I know was that I never want to see him like that again."

"Meet me at the studio." Simon told him. "There's a nice little restaurant not far from here. Nice and private, and we can talk all night if we need to."

"Sounds good. I'm on my way." Anthony started the car again and pulled out, heading to Simon's studio. "See you soon."

"Bye, hon." Simon slid his phone closed and stuck it back in his pocket. His normally calm friend sounded like he was teetering on an emotional edge. At least he came running to him this time instead of finding the nearest club. It seemed that Anthony was getting a little wiser as he approached his midlife years.

About ten minutes later, Simon heard an incessant pounding on his door. "It's open!"

The door swung open, and Anthony strode in, making a beeline for Simon. He threw his arms around his friend with a ragged sigh.

Simon responded by wrapping his arms around Anthony, stroking the back of his head. "Calm down, honey. It's okay."

"No, it's not." Anthony choked out. "If it was, I'd be with him right now."

"This is true." Simon agreed, holding his friend close to him, squelching down the small flame of jealousy he always felt at the mention of House. Right now Anthony needed him, plain and simple.

Anthony sighed and pulled away, red rimming those beautiful green eyes. "Ready whenever you are."

Simon finished putting his equipment away, and the two men left the building and walked down the street to a small restaurant. Anthony would have missed it if he was driving by.

The host lit up when he saw Simon. "Simon! Long time no see, darling."

"Hello, Jeffrey." Simon greeted him by grasping both hands and kissing both cheeks. "Nice to see you again."

Jeffrey looked Anthony up and down. "And who's your adorable friend?"

Suddenly Anthony appreciated House's rougher treatment of him. Simon simply smiled sweetly. "This is my dear friend Anthony."

"Lovely to meet you, Anthony." Jeffrey gave Anthony what he assumed was meant as a flirtatious smile that was lost on him.

"No flirting with him, honey." Simon chided him. "He's taken."

"No surprise there." Jeffrey's demeanor changed slightly as he led the two men to a table near the back of the restaurant. "Your server will be right with you."

"Nice guy." Anthony muttered as he started looking over the menu.

"He's a good guy." Simon replied, not bothering to look at the menu. "This is his place, you know."

"Hello, I'm already taken, remember?" Anthony chuckled. "Stop acting like you're trying to set me up. Better yet, why don't you hook up with him? He's more your type than mine."

"True." Simon agreed. "Your type is more scruffy and rough, with impossibly blue eyes."

Anthony's face seemed to fall a little, and Simon immediately wished he could take back his words. "Sorry, honey. You know I was just teasing you."

"I know." Anthony's tone turned a little wistful. "I'm just...worried about him. That's all."

"Is it?" Simon arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Something tells me there's more to the story."

There was. Oh, there was so much more. Anthony didn't feel right sharing the details with Simon. It wouldn't serve any useful purpose, and would only piss off House if he knew. Instead he gave Simon a wan smile. "A lot happened today. That's all."

Simon sighed and leaned back in his chair. "So you call me with some big crisis, and then you don't want to talk about it. Very strange for you."

"I know. It's just that..." Anthony seemed very far away. "He was so out of it from fever that he didn't know what he was saying, I don't think."

"I've seen that happen." Simon nodded. "My sister had a fever so bad once she almost hallucinated herself out of a second story window."

"At least Greg didn't do that." _Of course, it's hard to do that when you're strapped to a bed._

"It's still scary to see that happen to the one you love." Simon reached across to take Anthony's hand.

"Yeah." Anthony squeezed Simon's hand.

"How's he doing now?"

"He was being moved to Intensive Care." Anthony answered. "He was still unconscious, though."

"Do they think he'll be okay?"

Anthony sighed. "Doctor Foreman seemed to think so, but it's a lot of wait and see." He could feel the lump grow in his throat again as he brushed a few tears away. "I just want him back with me. That's all."

"Of course you do, honey." Simon squeezed Anthony's hand in response, pulling away when the waitress showed up to take their order. Anthony ordered a bourbon instead of his usual beer, and Simon arched his eyebrow in interest as he ordered a vodka and cranberry. "Hitting the hard stuff tonight?"

Anthony chuckled, a little embarrassed at his motivation. If he couldn't have House tonight, he could at least have the flavor of his bourbon in his mouth. "Just that kind of day, I suppose."

"That wouldn't be the Love Doctor's drink of choice, now would it?"

Anthony rolled his eyes. "Yes, and what of it?"

"Oh, Tony. You're so predicable." Simon laughed at Anthony.

"So what if I am?" The waitress soon returned with their drinks, and Anthony swirled the bourbon around in his glass, taking a small sip. It burned his throat on the way down, leaving nothing but a hint of sweetness behind. In a way, it _was_ like kissing House. He closed his eyes, savoring the fine bourbon a moment longer before setting it down to return to the menu.

Simon smirked behind his drink. His friend was _gone_ on House, plain gone. God, he hoped for Anthony's sake that the man would recover from his illness. He had a bad feeling that Anthony would have a hard time recovering from the loss if he didn't.

The waitress arrived to take their food orders, and she quickly breezed away with the menus. As quickly as she had breezed out, Jeffrey breezed back in, pulling up a chair to chat with Simon.

Anthony didn't understand why Simon didn't just make a move on the guy already. He obviously liked him, and Jeffrey clearly wanted his attention. They would make a pretty good pair, come to think of it.

Another couple entered the restaurant, and Jeffrey quickly excused himself, lightly touching Simon on the shoulder as he left. Anthony snickered in response. "Someone likes you."

Simon rolled his eyes. "He likes anything with three legs, if you know what I mean."

"Whatever." Anthony snorted. "Fifty bucks says he gives you a phone number before we leave tonight."

"Oh, you are _so_ on." Simon drained his drink.

"You could save yourself the money if you just get _his_ number." Anthony took another long sip of his bourbon.

"Right, that'll happen. _Not_."

"Why the hell not?"

"Honey, have you looked at me lately?" Simon gestured to himself. "I'm not nearly as young and handsome as I used to be."

"Neither is Greg." Anthony pointed out.

"Bad example." Simon retorted. "He _did_ land you."

"Therefore proving that there are plenty of men who are into older guys."

"Aargh..." Simon groaned loudly. "If all I wanted to do was get laid, I could still make that happen. I'm just so _over_ all that."

"I know." Anthony drained the remains of his glass. "It does get old after a while."

They were silent as the waitress brought their food and they started eating. Simon was right about this place. The food was excellent, and it was a perfect spot for a private dinner. Anthony made a note to make sure to bring House here soon. This was the sort of place he would really groove on.

The waitress brought him another bourbon, and it turned out to be the perfect companion to his steak. Simon and Anthony fell into idle chat throughout dinner, and Anthony could see Jeffrey occasionally craning his neck between customers to get a good view of their table.

"He's still checking you out."

"Hush, you." Simon snapped. "Maybe I'll talk to him on the way out."

"Good." Anthony broke into a wide grin. "You need someone in your life."

Simon paused and sat back in his chair, twirling his glass in his hand. "I want more than that."

Anthony tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...more than just 'someone'. That makes me sound old and desperate." Simon finished the remains of his pasta and returned to his drink. "I guess I kind of want what you and the Doc have."

Anthony twisted his mouth into something like a smile. "I wouldn't hold Greg and I up as a bright shining example of lifetime commitment just yet."

"But you're heading in the right direction." Simon insisted. "I see how you two are together. He's crazy about you, and you're crazy about him. It's a beautiful thing."

"Well...only time will tell, I suppose." Anthony checked his watch, surprised at how quickly the evening had passed. "I should get going. Got a full schedule tomorrow."

Simon flagged down the waitress for their check, shooting Anthony an annoyed look when he pulled out his wallet. "I've got this one. It's the least I can do."

"Thanks." Anthony tucked his wallet away. "Just be sure to save a little to pay up our little bet."

"Oh, you're funny." Simon snorted as he rose from the table with the check. "No wonder that man likes you so much."

Anthony chuckled as he followed Simon to the front counter, where Jeffrey was starting to close things down. "Ah, last of the stragglers. I almost forgot you two were back there."

_Yeah, right._ Anthony smirked to himself as Simon pulled out his wallet and handed Jeffrey his card. He signed the slip and passed it back, and Jeffrey's face lit in a smile. As the two men turned to leave, Jeffrey cleared his throat. "Simon, darling?"

Simon froze. "Yes?"

Jeffrey drummed his fingers on the glass counter, glancing at Anthony. "I'm closing up in a few minutes. If you're not...busy...I know this excellent coffee place."

"Is that right?" Simon tried to maintain a neutral expression.

"Mm-hm." Jeffrey nodded. "Best espresso in Princeton."

Simon turned back to the counter, leaning over to meet Jeffrey's eyes and covering his drumming fingers with his hand. "I'll be the judge of that."

Anthony waved to Simon. "I'll just be on my way."

"Oh no, you don't." Simon scolded him. He patted Jeffrey's hand. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

"I'll be here."

The two men walked back to Anthony's car, and Anthony fumbled with his keys slightly as he opened the door. Simon arched a brow in concern. "Are you okay to drive?"

"I'm fine, really." Anthony grabbed Simon to him for a quick hug. "Thank you for tonight."

"My pleasure, honey." Simon returned the hug, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "No matter what, I'm here for you. You just call me if you need me, okay?"

They stayed in their embrace for a long moment, and Simon could hear Anthony's ragged sigh again. "You know...I can give Jeffrey a rain check."

"Don't you dare." Anthony told him firmly, releasing Simon and quickly wiping his eyes. "I'll be fine."

"Well...if you're not...you know what to do."

Anthony nodded. "You'd better go. Don't keep that man waiting."

"If you insist." Simon turned and trotted across the street and ducked back into the restaurant. Anthony smiled a little as he climbed into his car and started down the road. Dinner with Simon had served two purposes tonight, it seemed. Not only did it distract Anthony from his worries over House, but Simon had gotten a date out of it.

He returned home and quickly prepared for bed, trying to ignore the eerie quiet that fell over the apartment. As he pulled the covers over him, Anthony almost half expected House to climb in behind him, as he had done after several impossibly late nights.

He dozed off only to jolt awake. According to his phone, it was nearly 3 AM, and he was alone in the large bed. He didn't know why, but he was sure he had felt House's presence, those long arms and warm body wrapped around him. It was painful to realize that he wasn't there.

Anthony drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around them, setting his forehead on his knees. Everything that had built up in him over the course of the day came out of him at that moment, and he simply let the tears fall, finally allowing himself to admit that he deeply missed House.

Finally the storm passed, and Anthony cocooned himself in the warm covers. As he fell asleep, he hoped like hell that Doctor Foreman was right about what was affecting House. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he wasn't.

# # #

**It's that time again. Read and review.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Insert my usual disclaimers and stuff here. I don't own House, Kutner, or Chase. **

# # #

House opened his eyes to find himself in the passenger seat of a moving car. A wide smile crossed his face as he turned his head to greet the driver, the smile rapidly fading upon seeing who it was.

"Dammit." He growled.

"Who did you expect?" A familiar lopsided grin greeted him.

"Not you." House snapped as he flopped his head against the headrest. "So I'm still delusional. Great."

"Could be worse." The driver cheerfully told him. "At least it's not...you know."

"Right." House frowned thoughtfully. "So why are you here, and where the hell are we going?"

"You tell me." Kutner shrugged. "You're the one who created all this."

House was silent as he tried to put the pieces together. He absentmindedly reached down to rub his thigh, startled to find no gaping hole there. No scar meant no pain, which meant...

"I'm _not_ delusional." House whispered to himself. "I'm dreaming."

"Not exactly." Kutner shook his head.

"It's either one or the other." House threw Kutner an annoyed look. "Obviously I'm not _awake_."

"You always think in absolutes, don't you?" Kutner gave him a small smirk in return, staring straight ahead out the windshield. "Did you ever consider that there might be a state in between?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake." House was thoroughly irritated with this line of conversation. He had no interest in a deep philosophical debate with his dead employee. "What's your point?"

"No point. I'm just saying...think about it."

House stared out the window, watching the scenery fly by. Kutner was a real speed demon, House noted. He was a far less careful driver than Wilson. "Slow down, will you?"

"Why?" Kutner laughed. "What can happen? This isn't real, remember?"

House shook his head and resumed his train of thought. If he wasn't dreaming, and he wasn't delusional, then what the hell was going on? It had to be one or the other. There _was_ no in between.

Unless...House didn't want to think about that. "Oh, shit."

"What?" Kutner tossed him a curious look.

"I'm dead." House pressed his forehead against the cool glass. "I'm dead, and my punishment is an eternity with you."

"Quit being such a drama queen." Kutner rolled his eyes. "You're not dead. Chill out."

"I wish I could." House murmured, placing his hand on the window. The glass felt smooth and cold under his hand. "Why is it so damned hot in here?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Kutner looked puzzled. "Feels fine to me."

"Of course it does. You're dead." House snapped, feeling the heat rise in him as he fumbled for the window. "How the hell do you open this thing?"

"I wouldn't do that." Kutner warned him.

"Got to." House muttered. "So damn...hot..."

He finally managed to get the window open, and a wispy figure reached in to pull him out of the car. House's eyes grew wide as he struggled against the figure, but it proved too strong for him.

"The hell?! Kutner!" House screamed out, reaching out to the figure fading away in the driver's seat.

"Tried to warn you..." Kutner and the car disappeared in a rapidly growing fog, leaving House in the grip of the swirling figure that wrapped itself around him. House twisted and flailed in a vain attempt to get away, and the figure gripped him tighter the harder he fought.

"Shhh..." A familiar female voice whispered in House's ear. "Stop fighting so hard."

House shivered in the cool darkness as he turned to face the figure. It was forming into a more familiar shape, and House reached out to touch the face. "Stacy? What the hell are you doing here?"

She laughed gently and caressed House's cheek. "You must have thought me up."

"Why would I do that...?" House muttered to himself. "I've barely thought about you in years."

"Obviously that's not true, or I wouldn't be here." Stacy drew House closer, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. "You still want me, don't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous." House's voice came out in a rush. "There's got to be another reason you're here."

"Are you sure?" Stacy's lips nearly touched House's, and he swore he could smell her signature scent. Her hands moved over his body, lightly stroking where his scar should have been. "You don't have to go back, you know. You can be a whole man here." She lightly kissed him along his jaw, working her way up to his ear. "It can be just like it was."

House could feel himself falling under her spell as he reached out to spread his hands out along her back and captured her lips in a soft kiss. Stacy deepened the kiss in return, wrapping herself around him until nothing else existed.

Something about this felt off somehow, but House couldn't put his finger on it. The long slow fire that had burned in him so long seemed almost nonexistent now. Finally he pulled away, shaking his head.

"This can't be." House told her softly, stroking her hair. "It can never be what it was."

"Greg..." Stacy whispered softly, still wrapped around him. "Of course it can. All you have to do is say the word."

"It's not _real_." House insisted. "And if it's not real...I don't want it."

Stacy's eyes narrowed, and they glowed a bright yellow, nearly burning House with their intensity. "You're an asshole, Greg. You always have been, you always will be." The figure morphed again, growing into a snarling demon with flaming wings, the claws reaching out to grasp House's throat, pressing on his windpipe. "I don't know what I ever saw in you..." The demon roared as it pressed further until House was gasping, falling to his knees.

"I...never...wanted to...hurt you..." House was desperately pleading with the demon that held his life in its powerful talons.

"But you did anyway_._" The demon hissed as it roughly threw House back, and House felt himself falling into oblivion. "You have a lot to learn, Greg."

House tried to scream as he fell, but no sound came out. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe...couldn't breathe...just kept falling...falling...falling...

"_Need a crash cart in here!"_

"_Goddammit, he's not breathing!" Two doctors and a team of nurses swarmed over him as they prepared to intubate their patient. Monitors screeched as the doctor carefully slid the scope down his throat and threaded the breathing tube into position. He attached the bag and nodded to the nurse to start pumping._

"_Come on, House." Chase muttered as he worked over the older doctor, changing out the antibiotics. Nothing in his history had indicated any allergies, but as House himself would say, everybody lies._

_After what seemed like an eternity, Chase was rewarded with the steady beep of the heart monitor and rising O2 stats. "Got him back." One of the nurses reported._

_Chase blew a heavy sigh of relief as he patted the unconscious man on the shoulder. "Looks like you dodged another bullet, House."_

_As the remaining medical personnel left, Chase sank down in a nearby chair. Two days. For two days the ICU team had been fighting this beast that ran through House. They were on their third antibiotic. The first one had proven ineffective, and this second one had produced the allergic reaction. Chase hoped like hell that the third time would be the charm. It scared the hell out of him to see House laid so low. _

_Chase had seen him injured, but this outweighed both the shooting and the bus crash. Even the seizure after that DBS was nothing compared to what he was witnessing right now. When House wasn't suffering seizures, he was having vivid hallucinations. Chase was still nursing a black eye after he'd gotten too close to House during one of those hallucinations._

_He rose from the chair, making a note on House's chart and reaching out to touch the older man before leaving. Perhaps there was a break in the action in the ER. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to find his wife and have a simple cup of coffee with her in the cafeteria. He needed to feel that connection with her, knowing that life could be all too short, and it could literally end in a heartbeat._

"_Good night, House." Chase softly whispered as he left. "Don't you worry, we'll find a way to pull you through this." He sent up a quick prayer, knowing House would mock him for it, but not caring. Chase had to believe that there was a power greater than any of them watching over House._

House's eyes snapped open to find himself in his office. He turned to see a familiar figure sitting in his desk chair, tossing House's red and gray ball casually up in the air.

"Kutner, get out of my chair." House spoke in an exasperated tone. "And put down my ball."

Kutner looked guilty as he quickly vacated the chair and tossed the ball to House. "Didn't think you were going to come back."

"Like I have anywhere better to be." House muttered, striding over to the door that led out to his balcony. He bounced the ball on the floor, finding a soothing rhythm, vaguely aware of his lack of pain and the strength of both his legs. "Why'd you do it?"

Kutner frowned and stuck his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. "Why'd I do what?"

House rolled his eyes. "Blow your brains out, duh." He turned to face Kutner. "You were young, smart, had everything going for you. Why suicide?"

Kutner fixed House with a gentle smile. "Everything isn't what it appears. You of all people should know that."

"Just answer the damned question." House snapped roughly.

"I can't." Kutner answered simply. "I don't have the answer."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I'm you, duh." Kutner chuckled at him. "And you're me and...this is kind of starting to sound like a Beatles song."

"I missed something." House caught his ball and turned to stare out the glass door.

"Why do you want to know?" Kutner was moving across the room, stopping next to House. "What will that knowledge do for you?"

"I don't know." House admitted.

"You're looking for a deeper answer."

House rolled his eyes. He didn't want to admit that Kutner might have had a point. "And what would that be?"

"If you don't know, how am I supposed to know?"

"Right, because I'm you and you're me. Sorry, forgot." House opened the door to the balcony and stepped outside into the cool autumn breeze.

"And since I'm you...maybe I can be your personal whiteboard." Kutner followed House.

"For what?"

Kutner shrugged. "You've obviously got a lot on your mind. You need some way to keep it all organized, right?" He snapped his fingers, and the whiteboard appeared on the balcony, a marker ready in Kutner's hand. "So...where shall we start?"

"This is..." House searched for the right word.

"Crazy? Insane?" Kutner tossed the marker up in the air and caught it, over and over. "Funny that you automatically assume you've gone crazy again."

"Why else would I be having conversations with dead employees?" House argued. "It fits."

"That's not the only explanation and you know it." Kutner shook his head. "You would bite your team's head off if they only came up with one answer. Think harder."

"Screw it. It doesn't matter anyway." House turned away, pacing on the balcony. "I'm sure they've got me all nice and safe in the psych ward by now anyway."

Kutner sighed and waved his hand, making the whiteboard disappear. He hopped up on the concrete balcony railing, watching his former boss pace around, grumbling to himself. "Do you think you belong there?"

"Maybe." House leaned on the railing, looking out over the parking lot. "I don't know where I belong."

Kutner nodded in understanding. "I didn't either."

"Are you saying I should kill myself, too?"

"Who's to say you haven't tried?" Kutner shrugged. "Booze, pills, knives in electrical sockets...slower methods, to be sure, but surprisingly effective if done right."

"I've never set out to kill myself." House shook his head vehemently. "I've always had my reasons."

"That's the problem." Kutner smiled sadly. "Everyone has their reasons."

A stronger breeze blew across the balcony, and House shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. A few raindrops started to hit the concrete, dark spots against the light.

Kutner looked at House with concern. "Aren't you cold?"

"No." House was puzzled as he watched the raindrops hit the exposed skin of the back of his hand. They hissed and steamed as they hit, sending up waves of steam as the rain fell harder. "This feels..._good_."

A child-like laugh bubbled up out of House as he stretched out his arms and tilted his head up to the sky, closing his eyes as the rain pounded down over his body. Kutner backed away to return to his seat on the balcony, watching as House became completely engulfed in the steam that rose from his body.

The rain finally slowed down to a sprinkle, and House shook his head like a dog as the steam cleared. Kutner was once again standing in front of him. "Are you okay?"

House met Kutner's brown eyes with his blue ones, never wavering. "I...think so."

Kutner smiled, placing a hand on House's cheek. "Thought you would be."

House touched his arms as he pushed up the sleeves on his now dry shirt. The skin was surprisingly cool to the touch, and things finally started to click. It had been too hot in the car, and now the rain had come through to cool him. The steam as the rain fell on him told him that he must have still been overheated when he reappeared in the office.

"Maybe I'm not crazy." A slow smile appeared on House's face. He had a brief memory of Wilson over him, telling him...telling him what? _House...you're burning up..._ "Nope, definitely not crazy."

Suddenly it all made sense. He reached up to touch Kutner's cheek. "I've got to go."

Kutner nodded, a slow grin spreading over his features. "Good. You should." He dared to embrace the older doctor. "Take care of yourself...or at least let that guy of yours do it for you."

"How did you...oh, yeah." House chuckled as he extricated himself from Kutner's arms. "I'm you and you're me. I keep forgetting."

He turned and walked back into his office. A sudden and familiar pain shot through his right leg as he nearly lost his balance. House reached down and felt the familiar dip in his thigh, surrounded by the gnarly scar tissue. "No..." He whispered to himself, turning around to see Kutner following him. "I don't want this."

"It's a part of you."

House sank down in his desk chair, rubbing the stinging thigh. "Forget it. I'm staying."

"You can't stay here." Kutner knelt down next to his chair, placing his hand over House's. "Think about what you'd be leaving behind."

House twisted his mouth in thought as the pain stabbed through him. What would he be leaving behind? A job that he wasn't sure he'd ever fully have again, a friend or two, an apartment...

"You forgot someone." Kutner chided him. "What about Tony?"

"What about him?" House was too wrapped up in his pain to think clearly.

Kutner rolled his eyes. "You've got a good thing going with him. Why would you want to leave that behind?" He nodded his head toward the office door. "I'll bet he's waiting for you out there."

"And if he's not?"

"I don't think you have to worry about that." Kutner smiled broadly and handed House a simple wooden cane.

"You're not answering the question." House growled.

"That's because there's only one way to answer it." Kutner pointed toward the office door.

"Jesus, you just have to make everything so difficult, don't you?" House grumbled as he snatched the cane and pushed himself out of the chair. His pain had eased up somewhat, and walking was a little easier now. "Tell me why I hired you again?"

"Doesn't matter why." Kutner countered. "I'm dead, remember?"

"Right." House took a deep breath and pushed through the office door. A strong breeze seemed to envelop him and pull him toward a bright light. _Oh, how fucking stereotypical._ House almost laughed as the air rushed around his ears, pulling him along. Chase would have a field day with this one. Good thing he didn't plan on telling him about it.

# # #

House's eyes flew open as he attempted to reorient himself to his surroundings. No Kutner, and no Amber, either. So far, so good. He could hear the beeping of monitors and the whooshing sounds of an oxygen tank.

He started coughing, feeling around his mouth for the breathing apparatus. Almost immediately a doctor and two nurses came flying into the room to take the tubing out of his throat, and House started gasping almost immediately.

"He's awake." One of the nurses informed the doctor.

"I'll notify Foreman." A familiar Australian accent made House take notice. The figure turned on the light over the bed, taking out a penlight to check House's eyes. "Welcome back, House."

"Ow." House growled, squeezing his eyes shut against the bright light. "Get...that...out of...my face." His slow speech caught him by surprise. "What...th-the...hell...?"

"You had an infection, and a rather nasty one, too." Chase picked up the chart at the end of the bed, making a few notes. "We had to use three different antibiotics to get rid of it."

"Id..iots." House grumbled, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, I know." Chase couldn't help but laugh a little. "Would have helped if we'd known you were allergic to one of them."

House opened his eyes and scowled at the younger doctor. "Every...body lies."

"I know that, too." Chase hung the chart at the end of the bed and returned to turn off the light. "It's late. Get some sleep. Foreman will come check you over in the morning."

"Kay." House mumbled. "Call...Wilson...and Tony. Num-numbers are...in my...phone."

"I will. Don't worry."

"Thanks." House mumbled again and rolled over to curl himself into a ball on the bed.

Chase left the room, blowing out a long sigh. He silently thanked God as he turned to see House curled up under the covers, sleeping peacefully at last. It had been a difficult three days for all of them that were connected to House, and Chase was grateful that House seemed to be on the road to recovery. He had learned long ago to be grateful for the small things, and this was definitely one of those things.

# # #

**Now I leave it up to you. Read and review. :)**


	36. Chapter 36

**You know the deal by now. Don't own them, just using them for my own evil purposes. :)**

# # #

Foreman quietly slipped into the ICU the next morning, picking up the chart from the end of the bed and reading Chase's notes. As he had informed him, House had finally returned to consciousness after the fever broke. The third time had proven the charm with the antibiotics, much to Foreman's relief.

He glanced over the chart at the man sleeping in the bed. House was actually sleeping now, occasionally muttering and shifting as he did so. It was a welcome sight after three days of watching him alternate between seizures and hallucinations. While he was nowhere near out of the woods yet, it appeared House was at least going to survive.

House shifted, scowling as his eyes slowly blinked and opened. He looked around the room as if he were trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle, and Foreman gave him a few minutes to reorient himself before attempting to make any contact.

Finally House's eyes seemed to settle on Foreman, fixing him with his trademark steely gaze. It was more than a little unsettling. "Good morning, House."

House nodded, gesturing toward the chart. "Pass it...here." His speech was significantly slower than normal, and it was obvious how much it frustrated House. "Need to... see...what you idiots...have been doing...to me."

Foreman arched an eyebrow at House as he passed the chart to him. House held it at arms' length and tilted his head slightly in order to bring it into clearer focus as he started reading. _Fifty-year-old Caucasian male presents with high, uncontrolled fever and delirium. Note that patient was recently under psychiatric care for short-term psychosis and narcotics addiction._ House briefly scanned down the rest of the patient notes until he reached the codes for tests and treatments. Two vials of blood had been pulled, and a full infection panel and tox screen had been run. House was mildly surprised that Foreman hadn't ordered an STD panel as well.

"Foreman." The neurologist looked up at House's sharp voice. "Why no...STD panel?"

"We had a hard enough time getting enough blood for the tox screen and infection panel." Foreman responded. "You were kind of giving us a hard time."

House frowned. "Don't remember that."

"Kind of figured you wouldn't."

House shook his head and returned to the chart. A lumbar puncture had been done, too. That explained the soreness in his back and the headache. He pointed at the result. _Streptococcus pneumoniae. _

"Meningitis?" House was incredulous. "Does...Cuddy know?"

"We've been on the lookout for more cases, but none have presented." Foreman responded. "We're not sure where you would have picked it up."

"Clinic, probably." House smirked. "Told that...woman...clinic duty...was...hazardous."

"I don't think Cuddy's going to buy that one, House."

House rolled his eyes and handed the chart back to Foreman. "Boring."

Foreman glared at House. "Tell that to the people who put up with your hallucinating ass for the last three days." He rounded the bed and pulled out his penlight. "Did you know you gave Chase a black eye?"

"Probably...deserved it."

"You also scratched up your boyfriend's face."

House froze at Foreman's words. No one had referred to Anthony as his _boyfriend _before, except Wilson, and that had been mostly in jest. "Damn."

"Yeah." Foreman paused, watching House's face carefully. "He's one hell of a guy, you know that?"

"Sure...is." House winced against the penlight.

Foreman frowned in concern. "Does the light hurt?"

House bit back a sarcastic response, grateful that his mouth was running behind his brain for a change. "No...just bright."

"Good." Foreman tucked the light in his pocket. "Once we run the next course of antibiotics through you, we should be able to move you out of ICU. I'll schedule you for a CT scan to check for brain damage."

"I...know the...protocol." House rolled his eyes. "This...speech thing...permanent?"

"I don't know." Foreman answered. "It might not be such a bad thing, your mouth being slower than your brain. Might keep you out of trouble for a change."

House glared and gave Foreman the finger. Foreman couldn't help but snort in response. "Sign language works, too, I guess." House seemed to be looking past him out into the hallway, and Foreman turned to see Anthony wandering around. "Looks like you've got company."

"Don't just...stand there." House snarked. "Tell...him to...get his...ass in here."

Foreman suppressed a smile as he strode through the sliding doors of ICU. "Come on in, man." He called out to Anthony. "He wants to see you."

Anthony's face lit in a smile before Foreman stopped him with a touch on his shoulder. "Be warned. He's not quite himself just yet."

"He's alive and awake." Anthony responded with a small smile. "What else matters?"

Foreman removed his hand and dipped his head, stepping aside to let Anthony into the room. He made a good point. House was _alive_. As much as Foreman wanted to credit the logical wonders of modern medicine, he couldn't help but think some other force had been at work as well.

A touch between his shoulder blades made him jump, and he turned to see Thirteen at his side, a warm smile gracing her elegant features. "Hey, you."

"Hey, yourself." She nodded toward the ICU. "So he's lived to irritate and aggravate another day."

"Sure has." Foreman snorted. "That man must have more than nine lives. I'm not sure he's even human."

"Sure he is. Look at him." Anthony had eased himself onto the bed next to House, tentatively reaching for House's hand. House reached up to touch Anthony's face, frowning at the scratches that marked it. Finally House pulled the other man to him and closed his eyes, holding Anthony almost as if he were comforting him in some way.

Foreman was stunned at House's show of affection. In all the years he had worked for House, he had never seen that side of him. "Guess you're right."

He wrapped an arm around Thirteen's shoulder and placed a kiss on her temple. "Now that my patient's stable...you want to grab some breakfast?"

"I'd love to." Thirteen smiled warmly at him, pleasantly surprised by Foreman's public show of affection. They turned and started toward the elevators, stopping when they heard a voice behind them.

"Excuse me." A gentle female voice spoke. "My son in in Intensive Care. Could you direct me to him?"

Foreman's eyes went wide. "Of course, Mrs. House. Give me just a minute."

He swiftly slipped into the unit and found House. "House?"

The two men quickly separated and Anthony rose from the bed. "This...had better...be...good." House glared at him.

Foreman huffed impatiently. "Your mom's here."

# # #

_Fuck._ House groaned inwardly at Foreman's announcement. _Wilson must have called her._

"I'll just go wait out there." Anthony leaned over to press a kiss to House's forehead, lightly squeezing his hand.

"You don't...have to." House argued. "She...can just...deal with...it." He waved his hand at Foreman. "Send...her in."

"I'm not leaving." Anthony told him firmly. "I'm just giving you and your mom some time alone. _Obviously_ you two have a lot to talk about."

House rolled his eyes as Anthony kissed his hand before releasing it. "Fine...aban...don me. See...if I...care."

Now it was Anthony's turn to roll his eyes. "Stop being such a drama queen and talk to your mother. I'll see you soon."

Foreman crossed his arms over his chest, regarding House with an arched eyebrow. "Seriously? You tried to play the guilt card?"

House shrugged. "Was...worth a...shot."

Foreman shook his head. "I'll send her in."

House flopped against the pillows and closed his eyes. He was not looking forward to this conversation with his mother. He had managed to avoid talking to her while he was in Mayfield, only calling to let her know he was leaving the place, and even that had only been because Wilson practically browbeat him into it.

His mother's familiar scent wafted over him, and he opened his eyes. She took a seat on the chair near the bed, studying her son's pale face. Finally she scooted the chair closer, leaning forward to brush away bangs that no longer existed in a old gesture of comfort. "Your hair's so short."

"Insti...tutional...cut." House slowly grinned. "All...the cool...nutjobs are...doing it."

"Oh Greg, really." Blythe looked pained. "Why didn't you tell me what was happening to you?"

"Nothing...you could...have done." House shrugged, averting his eyes from his mother's concerned gaze. "Not like...it was your...fault."

Blythe pursed her lips and sat back in the chair, not sure what to say to him. She never knew how to connect with her only child, and it never got any easier with time. She had hoped that they could somehow forge a different bond now that his father was gone, but that hadn't happened, either.

"So..." Blythe took a deep breath. "I met your friend Tony. I thought James was your only friend." She smiled weakly at her lame attempt at humor. "It's nice to see you reaching out."

House's mouth twisted in a halfhearted smile. "He's...a good...guy."

"He had nothing but good things to say about you." Blythe fixed House with a gentle smile. "You need more people like that in your life."

"I...guess." House refused to meet her eyes. "Kind of...tired now, Mom."

Blythe looked vaguely disappointed as she reached across to pat his hand. "I'll be here for a few days. Call me?"

House nodded, drumming his fingers on the blanket that covered his legs as Blythe started to leave. "Mom? Wait."

"Yes, Greg?"

"It's about...Tony." House was suddenly nervous beyond all reason.

"What about him?" Blythe frowned worriedly.

"He's...more than...a friend to me."

Blythe sat in the chair next to the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. If he was saying what she thought he was saying... "Go on."

"We're...seeing each...other."

"I see." Blythe projected an air of calm she most certainly didn't feel. "How long?"

"Not...long. Three weeks...maybe?" House really wasn't sure. Time had slipped away from him.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." Blythe laughed nervously. "I always knew something was..._different_ about you."

_Really, Mom?_ House thought sarcastically. _You always knew your son swung both ways? Really?_ He kept his thoughts to himself, instead simply shrugging.

Blythe leaned forward, covering House's fidgeting hand with her own. "Look at me, Greg." House barely lifted his eyes to look at her, so Blythe tilted her head to compensate. "Are you happy with him?"

House frowned, thrown off guard by the question. He replayed moments from his and Anthony's growing relationship in his mind. Not just the physical aspects, but the smaller moments, the small gestures of affection, the easy conversations between them, the time spent just..._being_ with him. "I...think I...am. Yeah." A slow smile spread across his weathered features. "I'm...happy with...him."

"Well, there you go, then." Blythe removed her hand and leaned over to kiss her son on the forehead. "I suppose that's all that I've ever wanted for you."

House inwardly sighed with relief. He was sure this conversation would end in tears and screaming and accusations on both sides. Perhaps it would have if his father had still been around. No, it _definitely_ would have if his dad had been involved, and his mother would have demurred, as she always had.

She looked down at her son, wondering what other secrets he kept locked inside his mind and heart. "I'm going now. Get some rest."

"Come back...later." House dared to look up at her.

"Of course I will." Blythe smiled down at him, lightly stroking his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere for a while. Maybe I can get to know this new...what do you call him?"

House rolled his eyes. "I...call him...Tony."

"You're so funny." Blythe laughed gently. "Fine. Maybe I'll get to know your Tony a little better."

_Your Tony._ House had to admit that he liked the sound of that. "You'll like...him. If you...see him out...there...send him...in."

"Of course I will."

House heard his mother walk away, and he closed his eyes, a small chuckle escaping him as he tried to imagine his mom and Anthony getting to know each other. It could prove to be a dangerous combination, and not necessarily in a bad way.

# # #

House had managed to doze off for a few minutes when he felt the touch of a familiar hand on his. He opened one eye to see Anthony standing over him, a twisted half-smile on his face.

"Got room for one more?"

"Always." House extended his arm, and Anthony immediately eased himself onto the bed and lay his head on House's chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Don't know how...you...can stand...to be around...me. _I_...can't stand...me right now."

Anthony chuckled. "Considering what kind of shape you were in the last time I saw you...I can live with a little funk."

House snorted as he wrapped an arm around Anthony's shoulder, allowing his hand to trail down his arm. It just felt so good to feel Anthony's weight on him again, solid and real. He let out a short sigh of contentment.

"So..." Anthony ventured. "You told your mom about us."

"Yep." House replied. "She...took it better...than...I thought...she would."

"I know." Anthony laughed. "She nearly cut off my oxygen supply when she hugged me."

House was surprised. That didn't sound like his mom. "Would have...been different if...my dad were...here."

"I don't doubt it." Anthony responded. His own relationship with his mother had improved significantly after his own father's death. "I thought Wilson and I could take her to lunch later."

"Great." House grumbled. "You girls...can...gossip about me."

"Well, yeah." Anthony chuckled, then sighed a little as he listened to the steady thump of House's heart beat. It was an even sweeter sound now. "I've missed you, you know. It's been kind of lonely without you."

House pressed his lips into a thin line, willing the growing lump in his throat to go down. He tried to wrap his still-fuzzy mind around the idea that anyone missed him and failed. "Is...that right?"

"Yeah." Anthony's voice came out thick with emotion. "Thought for sure I wouldn't see you again."

House held Anthony to him a little tighter. "I always...come back. Like a bad...penny."

"Or a phoenix." Anthony spoke quietly.

House shook his head. "You give me...too much...credit."

"Better too much than not enough." Anthony shot back. He heard soft gasping sounds from above him, and Anthony lifted his head to see a few tears escaping House's closed eyes. "What's wrong?"

House couldn't begin to explain the emotion that had overwhelmed him. He couldn't get used to the idea that anyone outside of Wilson and his mother would mourn his passing. "You'd...miss me?"

"Well, yeah." Anthony shifted so that he lay across House's chest, fixing him with a serious look. "Don't know what I'd do without you now."

House rolled his eyes in an attempt to cover his surging emotions. "You'd...be okay."

"Back to that again, are we?" A hint of a smile crossed Anthony's face as he pushed himself off House's chest to brace his hands on either side of his body, leaning in to drop a kiss on his forehead. "No, I would _not_ be okay, got it? I miss you now, and I'd miss you if anything...more serious happened to you." He leaned down to touch foreheads with House. "So hurry the hell up and get better, okay?"

House snorted, wrapping a hand around the younger man's neck. "I'm...on it."

The sound of a throat clearing made the two men break apart, and one of the nurses regarded them with a slightly amused expression.

"Guess that's my cue." Anthony sighed. "I'll be back."

"You'd...better." House glared, but there was a softness behind it.

"You can count on it." Anthony squeezed House's hand and dropped one more light kiss on the older man's forehead.

House lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes while the nurse checked over him. He wanted to believe Anthony, wanted to trust in him. His mind drifted, attempting to put together the events of the last several days, trying to separate the real from the unreal.

Everything was vague, and House knew his memory was unreliable. One thing did stick out, and while House wasn't sure if it was real, he was willing to hold on to it. He thought he remembered strong arms holding him close and a soothing voice in his ear. It was one of the few times during this whole thing that he had felt safe.

"_Told you he'd be waiting." Kutner grinned at him as he casually straddled a chair in the conference room._

_House folded his arms and leaned against the glass wall, rolling his eyes. "So you were right for a change. What's your point?"_

"_No point." Kutner shrugged. He leaned forward and set a small, elliptical shaped object on the table._

_The object cracked open, revealing a brightly colored bird that slowly opened its wings. The bird suddenly exploded into flames, startling House._

"_What the hell?"_

"_Cool, huh?" Kutner stared at the fire, fascinated. "Keep watching. It gets better."_

_Soon the flames disappeared, leaving behind a pile of ash. House thought he spotted movement, and he pushed himself off the wall to investigate closer._

_Slowly the pile of ashes morphed into a pile of brighter colors, uncurling itself and spreading its wings once again. It flapped them furiously, determined to take flight._

_House tilted his head and held out his hand to the bird. It jumped back with a squawk, tilting its head in response._

"_Crazy damned thing." House grumbled, retracting his hand._

"_No crazier than you." Kutner gave House that trademark half smile._

_The bird opened its wings again, and it was only then House noticed something wasn't quite right. "No wonder it can't fly. Its wing is broken."_

"_Are you sure about that?"_

_House slowly cupped his hands and moved them near the bird, jumping back when it exploded into flames again. What rose from the pile of ash was larger, brighter, stronger. It curled its talons over the edge of the table, seeming to study House as carefully as he was studying the bird._

_The creature spread its wings wide, rising to its full height. "See?" House could hear Kutner, but couldn't see him around the magnificent creature's impressive wingspan. "Not broken. Remind you of anyone?"_

"_No." House snorted darkly, not sure what to make of the brightly colored bird. His curiosity got the better of him as he approached it once again._

"_Reach out to it." Kutner encouraged him. "See what happens."_

_House reached out with one shaking hand, and the bird stepped on, lightly gripping with its talons. It was surprisingly weightless, and only kicked up a light breeze when it started to flap its wings._

_He felt the creature push off, the feathers of its wings brushing against his face as it took flight and disappeared through what should have been the ceiling._

_Kutner rose from his seat at the conference table and joined House in watching the bird fly away. "See, every time the phoenix is reborn, it comes back stronger."_

"_But it has to destroy itself first." House looked down at his feet._

"_True." Kutner agreed. "But not without purpose. Everything has a reason."_

"_Oh, shut up." House glared at the younger man. "I assume there's a point to all this."_

_Kutner smiled again, that vaguely sad half smile. "Just think about it..."_

House's eyes flew open, and he once again found himself among the more familiar sounds of the ICU. An odd calm washed over him as he shifted again, even as the dream images faded away, leaving him with only a vague recollection. It was too much to try and analyze right then. He hadn't woken up screaming this time, at least, so it must not have been anything worth analyzing. Yeah, that was it.

# # #

**It's that time again. Read and review. :)**


	37. Chapter 37

**Insert my disclaimers and what not here. I don't own any of the House crew, just Anthony.**

# # #

House was packing up the last of his personal items when Wilson walked into the room. After nearly a week and a half, Foreman had finally deemed him ready to go home, and House was wasting no time in getting ready to leave.

Wilson's eyes crinkled as a smile crossed his face. Words couldn't begin to describe his relief at seeing his best friend up and around again. He had feared the worst while sitting in that ER waiting room, and watching him for those first few days through the glass of the ICU did nothing to alleviate those fears.

Now House was here, right in front of him, closing the backpack and slinging it over his shoulder in slow, deliberate movements. He glanced at the I Pod with a slight smile as he carefully wound the earbud wires around it and tucked it in his jacket pocket. "Think that's...everything."

"Then let's get you home." Wilson stepped aside with a warm smile, allowing House to lead the way out of the room.

The two men walked side by side, Wilson matching his friend's slower than usual pace. "You could take a wheelchair downstairs, you know."

"I...could." House responded slowly, his words measured. "Don't want...to. I've been...sitting on my...ass long...enough." His body ached from the illness, the seizures, and whatever else he had done while his brain had checked out on him. Oddly enough, the more he moved, the better he felt. The minute he got home, he had a hot date planned with his bathtub. These hospital showers just didn't cut it, the water never getting as blazing hot as House liked it.

Soon they arrived in the lobby, and Wilson stopped House just short of the entrance. "I'll bring the car around. Back in a minute."

Normally House would have argued the point while striding alongside Wilson, but this time he merely nodded. The short trip downstairs had taken more out of him than he cared to admit, and he was grateful that Wilson had simply taken the initiative instead of killing House with concern.

He eased himself onto one of the benches near the entrance and set down his backpack, leaning his elbows heavily on his knees while he dropped his head. Soon a floral-scented shadow passed over him. "Cuddy."

"House." She spoke softly, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. "It's good to see you."

"Been here...the whole time." House grinned slowly, lifting his head to meet her eyes.

"You know what I mean." She smiled warmly before bending slightly over him. "You got damned lucky, you know that, right?"

"Yeah." House's grin faded. "So...no other...cases?"

"None." Cuddy rose and shook her head.

"Makes no...sense." House frowned.

Cuddy sighed. "I know you're dying to solve the mystery, but right now you have other priorities." She fixed him with her patented administrator look. "Go home, rest, and recover. There will be plenty of mysteries to solve when you get back."

House glared at her. "Monday."

"What?!" Cuddy folded her arms over her chest. "I don't think so. A week from Monday."

House slowly pushed himself from the bench as Wilson approached. "I'll be...back _this._..Monday."

"If I see you here, I will _personally_ kick you out, got it?" Cuddy's gray-blue eyes bored through House.

"Sounds like...a...challenge." A slow smile curved House's lips. "See you...Monday."

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and slowly limped away as Cuddy pursed her lips together. She was fully prepared to follow through on her threat. She just hoped she wouldn't have to.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Wilson hissed as they exited the hospital and climbed into the waiting car. "Why do you always have to push her?"

"It's...what I do." House smirked as he leaned his head against the headrest. "She wouldn't...know...what to do...otherwise."

Wilson sighed in frustration as he turned out of the parking lot toward House's apartment. "You're probably not even going to be up for going to work on Monday."

"I'll make...that...call." House glared at his friend. "I'm a...big boy now. Think I can...make up...my own mind."

"Fine." Wilson pulled up in front of House's building and shut off the car. "Do you want company?"

House grinned, recognizing Anthony's car. "Looks like I've...already got...some."

Wilson's face fell a little, and House couldn't help but notice. "The more...the merrier, I...guess." Wilson looked baffled, and House rolled his eyes. "Come on...in."

Wilson's mouth twisted in a slight smile as he followed House into the apartment. The smell of whatever was cooking filled his nostrils as he closed the door behind him.

A flash of excitement surged through House as he glanced around the apartment. It was good to be home, better than he had expected. He could smell the chicken and vegetable pasta dish that Anthony was cooking up, the same one he had made the first night they had...

House closed his eyes at the memory. It had almost been their last night together. He exhaled shakily as he set down his backpack and headed toward the kitchen, leaving Wilson behind him.

He heard two voices in the kitchen as he approached, and he froze in the entryway. His mother and Anthony were working together, chatting easily and listening to music as they prepared the meal.

"Talking about...me?"

Two heads turned as one at the sound of House's voice, and they both stopped what they were doing to look at the figure that leaned against the entryway. After a long moment, Anthony approached House first, wrapping his arms around him and setting his chin on the older man's shoulder. "Hey, you." Anthony whispered. "Welcome home."

House closed his eyes, the emotion of the moment beginning to overwhelm him. As reluctant as he was to show affection toward Anthony in front of his mother, the need to hold him close and never let him go won out. "Good to be...home." House whispered back as he slowly returned the hug and buried his face in the space between Anthony's neck and shoulder.

Blythe turned away to hide the tears that formed in her eyes. She couldn't remember when her son had openly shown affection to anyone, herself included. This man must be more special to him than he had let on. It lifted a weight off her heart to see him like this, and gave her hope.

House finally opened his eyes and released Anthony, brushing a kiss to his cheek and limping into the kitchen to touch his mother on the shoulder. She turned and reached up to touch his face. "Greg..."

"Yeah...I'm home." House chuckled. "And you're...still here."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Blythe placed her hands on her son's arms, rubbing lightly.

House bit the inside of his lip, oddly touched by his mother's words. He'd always known that she worried about him, but this was one of the few times she had openly expressed it. "I'm...fine. See?" He glanced away with a frown. "You...don't have to...stay."

Blythe smiled slightly, patting House's arms. "My flight leaves Newark tomorrow afternoon. You're stuck with me until then."

House huffed and rolled his eyes. "You staying...the night?"

"Not here, dear." Blythe smiled warmly. "I'll stop by before I go to the airport."

House nodded, vaguely relieved that he and Anthony would be alone tonight. Not that anything would happen, necessarily. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have the energy, but he craved his privacy again after his time spent being poked and prodded and bothered in the hospital.

"Food's almost ready if you want some." Anthony offered.

"Later." House turned to lumber out of the kitchen. "Got a hot...date with...my bathtub."

"You want me to come get you?"

House stopped and frowned thoughtfully. "Half...an hour. If I'm...not out by...then...send in a...search party."

Anthony snorted as House continued slowly out of the kitchen. The man's sense of humor was intact, clearly.

Wilson was still wandering around the living room as House entered, and House regarded him quizzically. "You staying?"

"No." Wilson shook his head. "Lillian and I are going out tonight."

"Good." House nodded, pausing before closing the distance between he and Wilson. He glanced around, thumping his cane on the floor. "If I don't...see you...and I'm pretty sure...I won't..." House grinned teasingly as he placed a hand on Wilson's shoulder. "Thanks."

Wilson was stunned, not sure exactly what House was thanking him for. "Sure."

"I...mean it." House scowled. "You...stuck with me."

"I think you're confusing me with the other brown-haired guy." Wilson nodded toward the kitchen.

"That's...not what I...meant. Moron." House rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I mean...in...general."

"Still not sure I'm following." Wilson crinkled his brows.

House stepped in a little closer, awkwardly pulling Wilson in to him with one arm. "You're my...best friend. Hell...you're the...only one who's...put up with me...all these years. So...thanks."

"You're...welcome?" Wilson wasn't sure how to handle this. Finally he eased an arm around House.

"I'm...never going drinking...with you again, though." House remarked casually. "You can't...hold your...liquor."

"I was drinking beer." Wilson stepped back from House, chuckling and sticking his hands in his pockets. "You, on the other hand..."

"Would have been...fine if...it hadn't been for...you know." House leaned on his cane, looking thoughtful. "Anyway..."

"Yeah." Wilson tilted his head and glanced at House. "Call me if you're ready to go to work Monday. I'll give you a ride."

House nodded, then frowned. "I need to...get my...bike."

"It's already here." Wilson told him. "Tony had it towed home."

"How'd I...miss that?"

"Don't worry about it." Wilson turned to leave. "See you later."

"See you." House turned and headed slowly down the hallway to the bathroom. He pondered the mystery of his bike for a moment while he ran steaming hot water into the bathtub.

Once the tub was full, he stripped down and carefully eased himself into the tub. The water stung as it hit his skin, immediately turning it a bright red. It also felt fantastic after so much time away. He closed his eyes, letting the heat soothe him and lull him into a dozing state. Even though it seemed like he'd been sleeping for a week and a half, House still felt like he needed more.

That would be a lot easier to come by now that he was home. _Home_. House smiled to himself at the thought. It was becoming far more than a place these days, no question, and he gave Anthony full credit for that.

He could hear Anthony and his mother chatting and laughing in the other room. God only knew what sort of stories his mother was telling about him out there. House supposed that he should get out of the tub and put a stop to the bonding madness between them, but...the water felt so good, and the aches in his body were just starting to ease. There would be plenty of time to give Anthony a hard time later.

# # #

House jolted awake at the sound of a knock on the bathroom door. The water had cooled significantly, and he could feel his muscles attempting to stiffen up again from laying in the water so long.

"Just a...minute." House hollered as he climbed out and wrapped himself up in a towel.

The door opened, and Anthony poked his head in. "It's just your personal search party. Half hour's up."

House grinned a little and nodded. "I'll be out...in a...bit."

Anthony tilted his head, appraising House from head to toe. He was a little thinner from his ordeal, and his facial expression was a little wearier than usual, but God, he was still beautiful to Anthony.

House regarded Anthony with a baffled expression. "Something wrong?"

"No, hon." Anthony stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, closing the short distance between himself and House. He slipped his arms around House's waist and spread his hands out along his lower back, pulling the older man in for a long, slow kiss.

House responded immediately by spreading his hands out over Anthony's hips, his tongue darting out to meet the younger man's inside his mouth. He had missed this, but now was only beginning to realize just how much.

Anthony broke off the kiss, evoking something like a whimper from House. He reached up and lightly stroked the older man's scruffy cheek, planting another soft kiss on his lips. "Your mother's still here. Go see her before she leaves."

House groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'd rather...hang out here...with you."

"Plenty of time for that later." Anthony told him firmly. "Your mother's not going to be here much longer, and she did come to see _you_."

"Can't tell." House grumbled as he pulled away and started dressing. "You've practically...adopted her."

"Only because you weren't always available." Anthony answered defensively. "Besides, I kind of like her."

"You didn't grow up...with her." House growled.

"True." Anthony folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the bathroom door as House stood up to tie his flannel sleep pants. "Come on, you need to eat something anyway. Might as well visit with your mom while you eat."

House's stomach rumbled as if it agreed with Anthony, evoking an eyeroll from House and a snort from Anthony. "See, even your body agrees with me."

"My body's...betraying me again." House scowled as he limped toward the bathroom door, dropping a kiss on Anthony's forehead. "Should be used...to that...by now."

Anthony pushed himself off the bathroom door, and House flung it open with barely contained irritation. He followed House down the hallway to the kitchen, where he was filling a plate.

"Are you stalking...me?" House fixed him with a blue-eyed glare.

"Nope." Anthony replied calmly as he started to stack up dishes next to the sink. "You going to have more of this?"

"Maybe."

"I'll just pack it up. It'll be in the fridge if you want it."

"Tony, do you need any help?" Blythe was suddenly at the entryway to the kitchen, observing the interaction between this man and her son. They just seemed to..._work_, for lack of a better word. Everything seemed so natural and easy between them, and Blythe found herself getting more used to the idea of her son settling in with a man.

"No, Blythe." Anthony flashed her a quick smile. "Thank you, though."

"Well then..." Blythe twisted her fingers together. "I should be on my way, then." She stepped into the kitchen to lightly touch House on the arm. "I'll stop by in the morning, if that's okay with you."

"Sure." House spoke softly, freezing momentarily before suddenly turning to her and bending down for a long hug.

The move startled Blythe, even as it pleased her. Perhaps the ice was starting to thaw between them after all. She wondered how much Anthony had to do with that. "I love you, Greg."

"You...too." House was suddenly emotionally overwhelmed, for no reason he could define. "See you tomorrow."

He released her as suddenly as he had hugged her, and Blythe moved to where Anthony was starting dishes. "Thank you...for everything." She whispered to him as she gave him a hug.

"Of course." Anthony returned the hug, warmly embracing her. "We'll see you in the morning. I'll have a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you."

"I'll look forward to it." She fixed Anthony with a warm smile as she turned to leave, squeezing House's arm affectionately as she did so.

The apartment door closed behind her, the clinking of dishes in the sink the only sound. Anthony thought he was alone in the kitchen until House suddenly spoke.

"My dad's...dead, Tony."

"I know, hon. You told me."

"What did she...tell you about...him?" House's eyes seemed to bore into Anthony's skull.

"Nothing." Anthony wiped his hands off on the towel and turned around to lean against the sink. "She started to, but...I told her that it really wasn't her place to tell me about him."

"Really?" House didn't quite understand.

"I don't remember exactly how I put it." Anthony conceded. "Something to the effect of...if you wanted me to know, you would tell me."

"And she...was okay with...that?"

"Oddly enough, yes." Anthony tossed the towel over his shoulder and continued working.

House seemed to process this information as he leaned against the stove and polished off the food on his plate, moving to place it in the soapy water. He placed a hand on the small of Anthony's back and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Good dinner."

"Thanks." Anthony smiled as House turned to limp back out to the living room. "Is there some reason you mentioned your dad?"

House paused, leaning heavily on his left leg, looking decidedly unbalanced. "No. No reason...at all."

He quickly turned and left, and Anthony sighed heavily. He couldn't help but think he had missed a prime opportunity to allow House to open up more about his family issues, but apparently it wasn't to be.

Anthony finished the dishes and padded back into the living room with a pair of beers, not sure if House would want one or not. Judging by the way he was stretched out on the leather couch, one arm flung over his eyes, snoring slightly, he probably didn't want one right now.

Anthony returned the beer to the refrigerator, setting his own on the end table and finding the blanket in the hall closet. He gently covered House, planting a gentle kiss on the older man's forehead before settling in with his book.

House stirred, craning his head to frown at Anthony. "What are you...doing...way over...there?"

"You were sleeping." Anthony calmly replied. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"You can dis...turb me...all you want." House half smiled. "I'll let...you."

Anthony chuckled and pushed himself out of the armchair. "Lift your head."

House easily complied, immediately wrapping a long arm around Anthony's waist. "I've...missed this."

"Me too, hon." Anthony lightly stroked House's forehead, tracing the lines that crossed it with one finger. "If I ever see you like that again, it'll be too soon."

"That bad...huh?"

"Yes, that bad." Anthony's voice caught in his throat as he recalled House struggling against the restraints, out of his mind from fear and fever.

"Didn't mean to...scare you." House's voice went suddenly soft, his arm wrapping a little tighter around Anthony's waist.

"It's not your fault." Anthony tenderly stroked House's cheek. "Not like you tried to come down sick."

House shrugged, suddenly looking thoughtful. "Surprised you...didn't...get sick...too. Makes no...sense." He tilted his head up to look at Anthony. "No symptoms?"

"Nope, nothing." Anthony answered. "Doctor Foreman seemed surprised, too."

"You...should have. The stuff's highly...contagious."

"Let it go, will you?" Anthony chuckled. "I'm fine, you're fine, it's all good."

"Right." House closed his eyes at Anthony's touch, even as his mind automatically worked over the mystery at hand.

"Seriously." Anthony's voice went soft as he touched him in the furrowed space between his eyebrows. "Just...relax. Try to, anyway."

House removed his arm and shifted to his side so he was facing Anthony and the back of the couch. Anthony could see House's eyes start to drift closed, blinking languidly as he fought off sleep. It was oddly endearing and sexy at the same time, and Anthony reached out to rub House's shoulder and arm.

"Let me know when you're ready to go to bed, okay?" Anthony tilted his head as House's eyes threatened to close.

"Why?" House murmured, melting away under Anthony's hand. "You're not...likely to get...any tonight."

Anthony couldn't help but laugh a little at House's comment. He moved to stroke House's head. "Do you really think it's only about sex with me?"

"Be okay...if it was." House smirked a little.

"There's way more to it and you know it." Anthony ruffled House's hair. "Silly man."

"Mm-hm." House's closed eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Think I'm...ready for bed...now."

Anthony gently pushed House off his lap, and the two men went through what had become their standard nighttime rituals. It was funny how quickly they had fallen into a routine, Anthony thought as he crawled into the bed. It was comforting to him how they seemed to be picking up right where they left off.

He felt the mattress sink as House climbed in behind him, wrapping an arm around Anthony's waist and pressing his body as close to him as he possibly could. House's rough chest hair brushed against Anthony's back as House pressed a series of kisses to the back of his neck.

Anthony grinned, thoroughly enjoying the dual sensations of soft lips and rough hair. "Thought you said I wouldn't be getting any tonight."

"Did I...say that?" House murmured, pulling Anthony in closer to him. "I just...said it was...unlikely. Didn't rule it...out completely."

Finally House seemed to settle in, his warm breath softly hitting the back of Anthony's neck. They were quiet for a long moment before House broke the silence. "Think I missed...this...most of all."

"Me too." Anthony spoke softly, not wanting to give away the growing emotion that was building inside him. The thought of never having this again, never feeling House's warmth against him...it was almost too much to think about.

A shaky breath and wetness on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. "What's the matter, hon?"

House's thoughts were crashing into one another, and he was having a hard time trying to voice them. "Nothing...much. Just good to...be...home." He managed to choke out. It was the truth, close enough for right now, at any rate.

He curled against the younger man, taking in his scent and holding him as close as he could, almost fearing he would disappear again if he didn't. Here was something real, something solid, something House could hold on to when things got impossibly difficult. It was something he hadn't felt in years, if he ever had.

And that was what had brought on the waterworks. Suddenly House pressed a kiss to the phoenix that graced Anthony's shoulder. "There's...something else."

"And what's that?"

House shifted so that he could speak directly into Anthony's ear. "I feel...like I can...trust you now."

Anthony's heart soared. "That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Don't go...telling everyone. You'll...ruin my...rep." House rumbled.

"I won't tell anyone." Anthony squeezed House's hand. "It'll be our secret."

He could almost feel House smile against his shoulder. "I'm...good with...that."

"Good." Anthony closed his eyes, listening as the older man drifted off to sleep, his even breathing the only sound in the room. It proved to be almost like a lullaby for Anthony, as he felt himself fall asleep, feeling warm and secure for the first time in a very long time. If House's words were any indication, he was starting to feel much the same way. Finally, things were starting to fall into place for them. It was about damned time.

# # #

**Now it's up to you. Read and review. :)**


	38. Chapter 38

**Last chapter before the end of the weekend. I don't own anything House-related.**

# # #

House awakened the next morning feeling far closer to human than he had since falling on his face in front of Wilson's office nearly two weeks ago. He pulled the blankets over himself and Anthony against the early morning autumn chill, not quite ready to leave the bed or the man he was sharing it with.

He was truly home now. Anthony had been a regular visitor once he had transferred out of ICU, visiting during his lunch time and after work, but the nights were his alone. Those nights had gotten damned lonely, and there was nothing to chase that loneliness away.

That was behind him now, and he gently pressed his lips to the younger man's neck and shoulder while spreading his hand out along Anthony's stomach, hoping to tease him awake.

Anthony shifted slightly and murmured something unintelligible. It seemed to be working. House traced a line up Anthony's neck to the space between his earlobe and his jaw, leaving a firm kiss there. He could hear an appreciative sigh from the younger man, and he rolled over slightly, his green eyes finally fluttering open to greet House.

"Good morning, hon." He gave House a sleepy smile as he turned all the way over to face House.

"Sure...is." House leaned over him, tracing the contours of Anthony's face with his fingers, ending by cupping his chin in his hand and tilting it upwards for a soft, lingering kiss. "About to...get...better."

"You're up for this?" Anthony slipped his hands around to House's lower back, regarding him with a hint of concern.

A teasing glint seemed to flash through House's bright blue eyes as he slipped a hand inside Anthony's sleep pants. "As up as...you are."

"You're bad." Anthony snickered, spreading his fingers out along House's back, enjoying the sounds of pleasure that escaped him at the touch.

"And you...love it." House shifted so he lay over Anthony, leaning down to lightly suck and nibble at his neck. He arched upward at the feel of House's tongue and teeth, a low moan escaping him as he wrapped his arms around House, sliding his hands under the waistband of his pants to take hold of his backside.

House growled at the move, easily moving from Anthony's neck to his mouth, his lips pressing firmly against the other man's, pushing them apart with his tongue, insistent on entrance.

Anthony made a sound that was part moan, part sigh, part whimper, and it served as a massive turn-on for House. He reached down to fumble with the ties on Anthony's sleep pants, reluctantly breaking away from his lips to pull them off his body and toss them aside.

He paused to lean back on his knees, wincing slightly as his right leg tried to give him grief for the unforgiving position. For now, he chose to ignore it in favor of admiring the view before him.

Anthony's eyes were hooded, carefully watching House as he smoothed his hands over his body, arching to meet his touch whenever House found a particularly sensitive spot. He nearly quivered beneath House, and he knew that Anthony had been anticipating this nearly as long as he had.

_All the more reason to draw this out and take it slowly_, House thought to himself as he lowered himself over Anthony once again, starting at the tender spot on his neck and slowly working his way down to the hollow space just above his collarbone. Anthony gasped below him, removing his hands and clutching at the back of House's head as he ran his tongue to the spot where his collarbones separated, flicking the space sharply before leaving a soft kiss there.

"Aaahhh..." Anthony twitched as House slowly smiled, spreading his hands out over his chest, brushing the nipples with his thumbs before rolling them between his fingers, following close behind with his mouth, alternately sucking and flicking at them with his tongue. He could feel Anthony squirm beneath him, groaning as he arched his back, all but begging for more.

House shifted downward, leaving a trail of kisses down Anthony's stomach, his hands following a similar path, separating at his center. His hands spread out along the younger man's thighs, gently pushing them apart to allow House easier access for what he had in mind.

Anthony pushed himself up on his elbows, watching House's head move around below his waist, his breath shortening as House's hands moved all over his legs, finally settling on his hamstrings as he moved to take Anthony into his mouth.

It caught Anthony off guard, even though he'd been watching the entire time. He could feel House's tongue and lips roll all over him, one hand shifting to stroke him underneath while the other was still wrapped around his thigh.

House's fingers drifted lower, gently playing around his entrance, almost acting as if he were unsure. Anthony reached down to stroke his head, encouraging him.

He suddenly moved off Anthony, sliding slowly up his body until he could reach the drawer on the small bedside table, finding what he needed. House examined the small bottle with a half smile. "Starting to run...low."

Anthony snorted, running his hands over House's head as he started working his way back down Anthony's body, leaving a line of kisses down his chest and stomach. "You're buying the next one."

"Fine by me...if it means I get...to keep doing...this." House had squeezed some lube out onto his fingers, rubbing around the outside before sliding a finger inside Anthony, moving in and out in a slow, easy rhythm.

Anthony moaned softly, pushing House's head downward as he spread himself further. House quickly took the hint, taking the younger man into his mouth, working over him with tongue and lips while sliding a second finger inside him.

It was all so slow, sweet, almost tender, and Anthony wanted it to last as long as he could possibly make it. He closed his eyes, stroking House's head as the older man pushed deeper inside him, the pleasure building so slowly that Anthony was almost unaware of the coming explosion until it was right on top of him.

"Ahh...damn...Greg...ahhh..." Anthony bucked upward, his fingers curling in House's hair, taking hold as he went over, coming down with a shaky sigh. He relaxed for a long moment, feeling House's head resting against his hip and his hand caressing his thigh.

Finally House pushed himself up so that he lay half on Anthony and half on the bed, leaning in for a long, languorous kiss, slipping his tongue in easily to tangle with Anthony's. Anthony took in the slightly bitter taste from House's mouth, finding it oddly sexy.

He ran his hand along House's right thigh, evoking a short grunt from the older man. "Sorry." Anthony whispered.

"S'okay." House murmured, wrapping his arm around the younger man's waist, pulling him in closer. He broke away from Anthony's mouth and started down his neck again, shifting so that he was between the younger man's legs again, pushing up against him.

"Hold up there, big guy..."

"I know...I...know." House pushed away from him just long enough to wrap himself up, feeling a bit foolish at forgetting. Soon he was there again, slowly pushing his way in, watching Anthony's eyes go wide at first, a soft breath escaping him as his eyes fluttered closed, giving himself to the pleasure he was receiving.

House shifted slightly, and Anthony thought he heard the older man making grumbling noises above him. He opened his eyes, reaching up to touch the slightly frowning face. "Everything okay?"

"Mm-hm..." House braced his hands on either side of Anthony, shifting so he sat back on his knees, leaning more heavily on his left while trying to ignore the pain and slight cramping in his right. He paused, moving his hands to stroke along Anthony's stomach, spreading his fingers out as he did so, seeming to appraise the younger man that lay under him.

Finally House slipped his arms under Anthony's legs and started moving in and out of him again, finding his rhythm and a position that worked for both of them. He bent over Anthony, kissing anywhere he could reach, pumping harder into him as Anthony wrapped his legs around him.

He slammed fiercely into Anthony one last time, coming undone with a loud groan, shaking as he collapsed on top of the younger man, breathing heavily from the exertion. House wrapped his arms around Anthony, laying his head on his chest and listening to his heart thumping in steady rhythm.

Anthony folded his arms over House's back, enjoying the closeness and intimacy between them, knowing that House would have to move before too long. House sighed into his chest, reluctant to move, even as his leg insisted he do so. He just wanted to ignore that particular master for just a little while longer.

Eventually House lightly kissed Anthony on the neck, murmuring in his ear. "Need...coffee."

"You're going to have to get off of me, then." Anthony laughed softly.

House groaned softly. "Don't want...to. You feel...too...good."

"Then there can be no coffee." Anthony pondered the idea. "Unless, of course, _you_ want to take a crack at it."

"No way." House slowly rolled off the younger man to lay on his back. "Wouldn't want to...cut in...on...your action."

Anthony leaned over to give the older man a soft kiss before slipping out of bed and finding his pants. "I thought so. You might want to think about getting a move on. Didn't your mother say she was stopping by on her way to the airport?"

House rolled his eyes. "I...guess."

Anthony stopped at the end of the bed on his way out, squeezing House's outstretched foot. "Need anything?"

House shook his head, looking deep in thought. Anthony merely nodded as he left the room. If something was on House's mind, and he didn't want to share it, the best thing Anthony could do was leave it alone.

House lay on the bed for a while longer, absentmindedly rubbing his aching, stinging thigh. His body had give him fair warning going into..._that_ particular position with Anthony that he would pay for it later, and now he was, in spades. Damned if he was going to let Anthony know that, though. The look on the younger man's face as House had entered him had been worth every bit of pain he was feeling right now, and he would gladly do it ten times over just to see _that look_.

House knew damn well he couldn't possibly keep that up forever, and the idea of his body telling him what to do and how to do it sat poorly with him. He was starting to feel handicapped in more ways than one.

"Hon, are you going to..." Anthony stopped when he saw the pained expression on House's face. He sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand over House's. "What do you need?"

"I _need_ you...to leave me...the hell...alone." House snarled, quickly rolling over to his left side.

Anthony twisted his lips in frustration. It was always one step forward and two, sometimes three, steps back with this man. He settled himself on the bed and carefully wrapped an arm around House.

The older man stiffened, but didn't try to pull away. It was a step in the right direction, at least. Anthony placed a light kiss on the back of House's neck, and he could feel House start to relax in his grip. "Let's try this again, okay?" House was silent, but eventually nodded. "What do you need?" Anthony softly whispered in his ear.

House didn't know where to start. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep pushing Anthony away, but he couldn't let him all the way in, either. Finally he blew out a long sigh, touching the hand that curled itself around his body. "I can't...do...what we...did...again. It hurts...too much."

"So we'll find other ways." Anthony spoke softly. "It's not that big a deal."

"It is to...me." House's voice held a note of sadness. "I'm tired of...my body...holding me hostage."

A lump grew in Anthony's throat at House's sudden confession. "I wish like hell there was something I could do."

House took hold of Anthony's hand, guiding it to the scar on his thigh. "This...this changed...everything. Nothing you...can do about...that."

"So what can I do?" Anthony lightly rubbed the scar. "Let me amend that. What can _we_ do?"

"We?" House started to turn over to his back, puzzled.

"Yes, 'we'." Anthony kissed him on the forehead. "We're together, right? It only makes sense that we should work through these things _together_."

House frowned, clearly skeptical. He pressed his lips into a thin line, deep in thought. He had told Anthony just last night that he trusted him. So what the hell was the problem now? He sighed heavily, brushing his thumb along Anthony's fingers. "I've been...dealing with this thing...alone for a...long time. I don't know...any other way."

"We'll figure it out as we go, okay?" Anthony turned over his hand to grasp House's thumb. "One step at a time. Just...trust me."

House managed a half smile at that. "Already...do."

"Now then." Anthony squeezed House's thumb and kissed him lightly on the lips. "One more time. Do you need anything?"

House nodded, gesturing toward the nightstand. "Both those bottles." He pushed himself to a sitting position as Anthony handed him the bottles, and House took one pill out of each, tossing them both back and easily dry swallowing them. Anthony rubbed House between the shoulder blades as House waited for the meds' desired effect to kick in. Finally he waved the younger man away, slowly swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Okay...enough babying. Get...out."

Anthony chuckled, relieved that this particular storm had blown over. A knock at the door jolted both men from their thoughts. "That's probably your mom. Better get moving."

"Yeah, yeah...I'm...going." House grumbled as he found a robe and wrapped it around himself.

"I'll keep her entertained for a bit. Don't be long."

House rolled his eyes. "Who do you...think...you are? My...mother?"

"God, no." Anthony teased. "That'd be weird."

A ghost of a smile played around House's lips as Anthony strode down the hall to answer the door, House close behind. He couldn't resist reaching out to smack him on the rear as he turned toward the bathroom, an innocent look gracing his rough features when Anthony's head whipped around at him.

Anthony merely shook his head as he answered the door. That man was exhausting in more than one way, that was for certain. Thank God House's mother was far easier to deal with.

# # #

Anthony swung open the door and greeted Blythe with a warm smile and a quick hug. "Morning, Blythe. Coffee's ready if you want some."

"Thank you, Tony." The older woman briskly strode into the kitchen, returning with a steaming mug and setting it on the end table. She noted that the younger man was still padding around in a t-shirt and pajama pants, and she tilted her head. "If I'm interrupting..."

"Not at all." Anthony seated himself on the couch, taking a long sip from his own mug.

Blythe glanced around, as if looking for House. "Is Greg here?"

Anthony nodded down the hallway. "He's in the shower. Should be out soon."

Blythe nodded, twisting her fingers in a gesture Anthony had seen her son do a hundred times, easily. She sighed heavily before finally speaking. "When Stacy left him, he was devastated. He didn't come out and say it, of course, but I could tell just by our phone calls."

Anthony was fairly certain where this was going. Wilson had given Anthony a similar speech not so long ago. Out of respect, he nodded to Blythe to continue. "I never want to see my son suffer like that again. I'm not sure he would survive another heartbreak."

Anthony cradled the coffee mug in his hands, inhaling the rich scent before answering. "I will admit, I haven't know Greg very long." He took a brief sip of coffee before setting the mug on the coffee table. "I do know that I care for your son very much, and...I don't want him to suffer, either."

Blythe smiled a little, taking a delicate sip of her own coffee. "I wasn't sure what to think at first, you know. Now that I've seen the two of you together...I think you're very good for him."

"Ah, you...girls are gossiping...and giggling about...me again." House's deceptively light tone carried through the living room as he passed through on his way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

He soon reappeared, settling in next to Anthony and lifting his leg to rest on the coffee table. Anthony patted his leg and rose from the couch. "Think I'll hit the shower while you two visit. I won't be long."

House managed to bite back a comment, admitting to himself that Foreman might have had a point about his mouth being slower than his brain. He didn't see any need to make his mother uncomfortable, not when they seemed on the verge of rebuilding their shaky relationship.

They were both quiet for a long moment before Blythe broke the silence. "As I was telling Tony...I think he's very good for you." She studied her son carefully. "You're very good together. I know you told me you were happy with him." She smiled warmly, leaning forward to meet her son's eyes. "Now...I have proof."

House's head dipped down, a hint of a boyish smile crossing his face. He didn't have to say a word. His facial expression said it all.

Blythe rose from her chair, finishing the last of her coffee and taking her mug to the kitchen. House had pushed himself off the couch by the time she returned, towering over her as she gathered him in a warm hug. "I should be going. Airport security takes forever these days."

House slowly hugged her back, almost delicately, as if she would shatter in his arms. "It was...good to see...you."

"You too." Blythe laughed gently. "I'll have to visit on a happier occasion."

Anthony had just strode into the room as Blythe and House were saying their goodbyes. "Leaving so soon?"

"Yes, Tony." Blythe answered, wrapping him in a similar hug to the one she had given her son. She reached up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "Take good care of him. He needs you." Out loud she told him, "Don't be a stranger."

She turned to House, hugging him one more time. "And that goes double for you. Please, stay in touch."

"I'll...try." House's expression was sober as he returned the hug, slowly letting her go.

The apartment door closed behind her, and House simply stood in the living room, thumping his cane on the floor. Anthony rubbed him between his shoulder blades, studying him carefully. "What's on your mind?"

"Don't know." House looked thoughtful. "I think I...kind of miss her." He glanced down at the floor. "I...miss her...but not...him. Something's wrong with...that."

"Maybe." Anthony shrugged.

"Last night, before...she left...she said she...loved me." House's voice went soft, and Anthony thought he detected just the hint of a crack. "I can't remember the...last time...she said that...to me." He frowned. "He...never said...it."

Anthony's heart ached for House, trying to imagine going so long without ever hearing those simple words from someone. He wrapped his arms around House's waist from behind and kissed his shoulder, pressing his cheek into his back. "I love you. I even tell you I love you. Does that count for anything?"

House's mouth twisted into a small half smile as he covered Anthony's hand with his own. "It counts. It just...doesn't change things."

"This is true." Anthony squeezed House, not sure if he had done any good or not. "You hungry?"

"I could...do with a...little something...something." House grinned.

"Funny man." Anthony laughed and released him, heading into the kitchen. House tilted his head and watched him go, alternately amused and warmed by Anthony's words. While they didn't make up for anything in his crappy childhood, they made a hell of a lot of difference right now. House supposed that was what really mattered.

# # #

**Do your thing, readers. Read and review.**


	39. Chapter 39

**You know my usual disclaimers. I don't own House or Wilson, just Anthony.**

# # #

Anthony hummed along with his I Pod as he cleaned up the kitchen after a late breakfast, sipping on the last of his coffee. He jumped when he felt a hand on his waist, relaxing when he realized it was merely House placing his own mug in the sink.

"You're a little late." Anthony teased him.

House shrugged as he pulled Anthony close to him. "So you'll get...it next time."

"Right." Anthony wrapped his arms around House's waist. "Because I've got nothing better to do than clean up after you."

"Not like I don't...pay you back for...it." House smirked and leaned down to press a firm kiss to Anthony's lips.

Anthony pulled back slightly, pretending to internally debate the idea. "I suppose you make a pretty good point." He leaned in to return the kiss.

"Knew you'd see...it my way." House's eyes crinkled with amusement as they wandered over Anthony's face. "I was thinking about...going back to bed. Care to...join me?"

"Couch is closer." Anthony fixed House with a wicked grin.

"I like the...way...you think." House's eyes seemed to light up as he pulled Anthony in for a long kiss, their tongues tangling as their bodies pressed impossibly close, and House heard a long sigh escape the younger man.

House broke away briefly, puzzled. "Something wrong?"

Anthony placed his hands on House's scruffy cheeks, lightly stroking with his thumbs. "No. Why would you think that?"

"You made...some noise."

Anthony's face lit in a wide smile as he pulled House to him for another quick kiss. "Yeah, I do that when someone does something I _like_. And I _definitely _like what you do to me."

House leaned against the sink, a curious expression crossing his face as his hands absentmindedly ran up and down Anthony's ribcage. "Is that...right?"

"Mm-hmm..." Anthony closed his eyes at the feel of House's hands on him. "You couldn't tell?"

House shrugged. "Figured it was more...general than...specific."

"What?" Anthony's eyes flew open in surprise before he intertwined his fingers around the back of House's neck. "Don't be silly. Of course it's specific. Where shall I start?" He planted a series of small kisses along House's jaw. "Maybe...with your ridiculously blue eyes." Anthony's hands moved from House's neck to his shoulders, down to his arms, gripping lightly. "Then...we could move on to these. That first night I came over...it was all I could do to keep my hands off you."

House snorted. "As I recall...you didn't."

"I think you know what I mean." Anthony chuckled, caressing the well-built biceps under his hands. "Point is...it _is_ you, not just some generic guy."

House rolled his eyes. "Stop. I'm...blushing."

Anthony brushed a gentle kiss to House's lips. "Learn to take a compliment, will you? Why is it so hard for you to believe someone would want you?"

House's expression turned dark. "You really want the...answer to that?"

"I could guess, but..." Anthony's lips moved to House's neck. "I'd rather not if I don't have to."

House closed his eyes and spread his hands out along Anthony's back, tilting his chin up to encourage Anthony's ministrations. "It's...complicated."

"Try." Anthony whispered. His tone sent a shiver up House's spine.

"Later." House murmured back, already lost in the feel of Anthony's lips and hands over his body. For whatever reason, Anthony wanted _him_, and House was only too happy to accept the attention the younger man showered on him.

Anthony, too, was caught up in the rush of House's hands sliding under his shirt, his lips roaming over him, House's insecurities temporarily forgotten. "Looks like we might not make it to the couch."

"Looks...that way." House softly agreed. He had already peeled Anthony's shirt off his body and was deftly undoing the younger man's jeans.

"Are you okay with that?" Anthony managed to choke out while running his fingers through House's rough chest hair, feeling the rise and fall of his breath under his hands.

"Shut up." House growled, slipping his hands just under the waistline of Anthony's jeans. His leg was shaking, but he wasn't quite ready to give up just yet.

Anthony sensed what was happening, and he pulled House to him as he guided him forward. "Come with me."

They stumbled together from the kitchen to the living room, bumping into the armchair along the way before finally finding the couch. House landed with a soft grunt, Anthony not far behind, gently straddling the older man and bracing his hands against the back of the couch.

The combined scents of House and his leather couch nearly drove Anthony over the edge, and he started rocking against House, leaning in closer, their bodies pressed together, his lips and tongue continuing their assault on House's throat.

He was rewarded with a low moan from the older man and a sudden upward movement as House's arms tightened around Anthony's waist, a slight shaking the only sign that Anthony had accomplished his mission.

House sighed quietly, relaxing his grip and spreading his hands out along Anthony's back, lightly trailing up and down his spine. Anthony could feel his warm breath on his neck as he leaned on him, one arm wrapped around his ribcage and his other hand caressing the back of House's head.

"Thanks." House murmured quietly into Anthony's shoulder.

Anthony lifted his head. "For what?"

"For not letting me be...a damned idiot." House snorted almost in disgust as he wrapped his arms around the younger man. "Don't...know what I...was thinking."

"Oh, you were thinking, all right." Anthony chuckled and continued to stroke the back of House's head. "Just not with the right head."

"Seem to be...doing that...a lot...lately."

"I'm not complaining."

"Neither was...I." House closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of the younger man's strong arms around him and his gentle caress. He had never been much of a cuddler before, even with Stacy, generally preferring to distance himself after any intimate act. Now, after so long, House found that he not only wanted the contact, he _craved _it.

House wasn't sure what the difference was. Perhaps he had taken it for granted when he had it. He sighed again and wrapped his arms around Anthony, pulling him in tightly and laying a line of kisses along his neck and collarbone.

"Mmm...everything okay, hon?" Anthony tilted his head slightly, delighting in House's tender ministrations.

"Everything's...fine...boy." House pulled back slightly to catch Anthony's eyes, fixing him with a wicked grin. "I need another...shower, though. I could use a...little help."

Anthony chuckled and shook his head as he pushed himself off House, pulling the older man to his feet. "And here I was worried about wearing _you_ out."

House smirked as he pulled Anthony to him for a light kiss. "No need to...worry about that. I've got lots of...lost time to...make up for."

Anthony seemed to consider this. "A couple of weeks...yeah, I can see that."

House's expression suddenly turned serious. "Try nine...years."

Anthony was puzzled, then finally made the connection. Things were starting to make sense. "Let me guess. Nine years since..."

"Stacy." House cut him off. "Yeah."

Anthony looked thoughtful before placing his hand on the back of House's head and pulling him in for a long, sweet, gentle kiss. "We'd best get busy then. Sounds like we've got a lot of catching up to do."

House closed his eyes and allowed himself to be drawn into the kiss. Not that he was in any hurry to get caught up, but if Anthony wanted to try, he sure as hell wasn't going to object. Not now, not ever.

# # #

House lay back on the bed later than day, eyes closed, one arm thrown over his head and the other across his stomach. The shower had turned into more, much more, and it had carried over into the bedroom.

He could feel a single finger trail down his chest, and he opened one eye to see Anthony alongside him, an amused expression crossing his face. "_No mas_...boy. I am...done."

Anthony chuckled at House's groaning protest. "Feeling caught up now?"

House snorted, grabbing Anthony's hand as it made its way down his stomach. "For now."

"Good." Anthony bent down and planted a gentle kiss on House's lips. "I thought I'd run back by my place for a few. I need to make sure the place is still standing. Do you need anything on my way back?"

"Nope." House closed his eyes again, and he could hear Anthony rustling around as he got dressed. The mattress sunk next to him as Anthony pressed another kiss to House's scruffy cheek.

"See you later."

"Mm-hm." House rolled over and pulled the covers over him, obscuring him from Anthony's view. Anthony chuckled and ruffled House's hair before pushing himself off the mattress and leaving the bedroom.

The man was full of surprises, Anthony marveled as he grabbed his jacket and found his keys. Over the course of the afternoon's activities, House had revealed to him the circumstances behind the leg. While Anthony knew it was barely the tip of the iceberg, at least it was a start.

The pain was much deeper than the mere physical, Anthony knew that for certain, and House would only reveal so much before shutting down again. Anthony was mostly comfortable with that. It would be odd if House dumped everything on him at once. Just because the man said he trusted Anthony didn't mean he was willing to share everything.

He swung the door open and was startled to see Wilson, his fist up as if he were just getting ready to knock. Anthony broke into a brief smile at the sight.

Wilson looked as surprised as Anthony felt, dropping his hand and shoving it in his pocket. "Sorry, I'll just come back some other time."

"No, it's fine." Anthony flashed him a quick smile as he stepped aside to let him in. "Come on in. I'll go let Greg know you're here."

It was always odd to Wilson to hear House referred to by his first name, and he briefly shook his head as he watched Anthony stride down the hall to the bedroom. There was a brief murmur of voices, followed by a soft chuckle and a closing door. Anthony soon reappeared, an amused expression flashing over his softly chiseled features.

"He'll be out in a minute." Anthony prepared to head out the door, pausing before he did so. "Are you staying for dinner?"

Wilson was baffled by the impromptu invitation. "I...don't know yet."

Anthony smiled again before heading out the door. Chances were good Wilson would still be there when he returned, so he would just plan on making extra.

"You're here in...the late afternoon." House's voice carried down the hallway. "Means you've got nothing...else going on. You're staying."

Wilson held out his hands in an expansive gesture. House fixed him with a suspicious look. "What are you...doing here?"

"I can't drop in and see how my best friend's doing?" Wilson shrugged.

House narrowed his eyes. "You can, but..." He plopped himself on the couch and lifted his leg to rest on the coffee table. "Something going on...with Michaels?"

"No. Nothing's going on." Wilson took a seat at the opposite end of the couch. "Lillian's taking a shift in the ER tonight. They needed an extra hand and..."

"I get it." House spoke a little sharper than he had intended. "You're all alone tonight...and you had...nowhere to go."

"That's not true!" Wilson nearly spluttered. "I'll have you know that I could have gone anywhere."

"And yet...here you are." House shifted and before Wilson turned his head, the older man was gone.

He soon returned, carrying a pair of beers, holding one out to Wilson with a somber expression. "Might as well while...you're here."

Wilson sighed and accepted the beer. He felt the couch sink as House eased himself down again, and he heard House's voice bark into his cell phone. "Tony? Wilson's hanging...around. Bring...more beer."

"_Kind of figured he would."_ Anthony's soft laugh filled House's ear. _"I'm already on it."_

"Good. See you...soon." House closed his phone and shoved it back in his pocket.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." Wilson arched an eyebrow at House as he leaned back against the back of the couch. "I don't plan on hanging out all night."

House merely shrugged. "Not like it's...going to go...bad. Somebody will...drink it."

The two men sat in silence while House casually flipped through his TiVo, finally settling on his soap opera.

An involuntary groan escaped Wilson. "Seriously?"

House glared at the younger man. "If you don't like it...there's the...door."

Wilson shook his head and took a long pull off his beer. "I've got nowhere else to go, remember?"

House rolled his eyes and turned back toward the soap opera, the wheels turning in his head. Wilson very rarely stopped by without a reason anymore, and it was increasingly unusual to see him on a weekend.

He hit the stop button on his remote and shifted toward Wilson. "Why are...you _really _here?"

"Oh, for God's sake." Wilson huffed in irritation and set down his beer. "I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. _Obviously_ you're doing just fine."

There was a long silence, and Wilson suddenly wished he could take his words back. If House put him out on his ear, he wouldn't have been the least bit surprised. Instead House dragged his leg down from the coffee table and leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees, a thoughtful expression crossing his weathered face.

"You're not...losing me." He spoke quietly. "I wish you'd...get that idea through...your thick head."

"I didn't mean it."

"Yeah, you did." House shrugged. "I'm not going...anywhere. You're not...going anywhere. We're still...us. That hasn't...changed." He lifted his head to look at Wilson. "You've got your...thing, and I've got...mine. That's the only thing...that's different."

Wilson leaned forward in a similar posture and absentmindedly started picking at the label on the beer bottle. "It's not the only difference." He sighed with an almost defeated tone. "I guess...I'm not used to someone else being here to take care of you."

House set down his beer and twisted his fingers together, staring off into space. "He does a...good job. Better than you...sometimes."

"Well, isn't that just fucking great?" Wilson snapped and drained the remains of his beer. "No need for me to be here, then."

"I didn't say...that." House growled, pushing himself from the couch to pace around the room, pausing when he reached his piano. He lightly brushed his hand along the top, deep in thought. Finally he turned to Wilson, who was still glaring at his beer bottle. "Look...we've got...history. That matters...to me. It's just different...with Tony."

Wilson's lips twitched in an unreadable expression. "Different how? Aside from the obvious, I mean."

House leaned heavily on his cane, twisting his lips in thought and staring at the floor. "There's no...history. He just kind of takes...me as I am. He doesn't see me...like you do, or even...like I see myself." His face changed, as if he was having one of his sudden epiphanies. "Yeah, that's it. I'm not a...fix-up project...for him. He just likes...me. And...I like that." House suddenly looked up, a light in his eyes and a soft smile crossing his face. "I like it...a lot, Wilson. No matter how...hard I try to...convince him what an...ass I am...Tony just doesn't...see it."

Wilson's face finally softened into a smile. "Sounds like you really like him, too. I mean...you must if you let him take care of you."

House's expression remained soft, an expression Wilson couldn't remember seeing on him. "Yeah, well...we've tossed...the other 'L' word...around, too."

Wilson's eyes went wide. "Seriously?"

"Sure." House shrugged with a casual air Wilson was sure he didn't feel. "Usually during a game...of tonsil...hockey."

Wilson rolled his eyes. Leave it to House to make a joke about something that was obviously so serious to him. "I almost believe that."

"What part? The...'L' word part...or the sucking...face part?" House pushed himself away from the piano, a teasing grin playing across his face. "You want...another beer?"

"Sure, if you've got one."

House soon returned with two beers, passing one to Wilson. "Always got one...for you." He made a screwed-up face. "God, that sounded like...you."

The door opened and Anthony entered, smiling when he saw the two men hanging out on the leather couch. They looked almost like the old friends they claimed to be. "You're still here. Good." He gave Wilson a warm smile and ruffled House's hair as he passed by on his way to the kitchen.

"What? No...smooch?" House hollered after Anthony.

Anthony poked his head out of the entryway to the kitchen, a teasing grin on his face. "Got plenty of them in here."

Wilson shook his head and chuckled as he took another drink of his beer. "So, is this how it's going to be around here from now on?"

"We'll see." House looked thoughtful again, and Wilson could see the doubt that briefly clouded his eyes.

"House..." Wilson wasn't quite sure how to word what was he was thinking. "You seem...happy. Take it for as long as it lasts, will you?"

"The three-time...loser is giving me...relationship advice." House snorted as he pushed himself off the couch. "You're a funny...one."

"Yeah, I'm hilarious." Wilson realized he was mostly talking to himself when he heard House in the kitchen, harassing Anthony. Anthony was giving nearly as good as he got, teasing the older man in return.

It was good, Wilson decided as he heard the dual sounds of Anthony's snort and House's low rumbling laugh. Weird, but good. Wilson supposed it was long past time for him to get used to the idea of House with Anthony. From where Wilson was sitting, it didn't look like things were going to change anytime soon, and Wilson wasn't sure he really wanted it to anyway.

# # #

**You know what to do. Read and review. :)**


	40. Chapter 40

**You know the deal. Don't own them, wish I did, but I'm still having fun with them.**

# # #

House limped into the kitchen, leaving Wilson babbling behind him in favor of finding out what Anthony was making for dinner. He lumbered up behind the younger man, pausing to take a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet before tucking it in Anthony's shirt pocket.

"Not to get too high on myself, but..." Anthony took the cash out of his pocket and held it up to House. "I'm worth a little more than that, don't you think?"

"It's for the...beer, you numbnut." House rolled his eyes. He started to pull another beer out of the refrigerator when something caught his attention. "Is that my...shirt?"

Anthony blushed. "Maybe. Are you okay with that?"

"Doesn't bother me." House leaned against the refrigerator to watch Anthony work. "A little...strange, but it...doesn't bother me." It looked pretty good on the younger man, House had to admit.

"Good. I might keep it until you give back my sweatshirt." Anthony took a quick swig of his beer as he put together the chili.

"In that case...you might as well...keep it." House smirked. "I'm not giving...back that sweatshirt."

"Brat." Anthony crossed the kitchen to where House stood, wrapping his arms around the older man's waist and pressing a small kiss to his lips.

"Hey...none of that...while Boy Wonder's here." House returned the kiss, lazily wrapping his arms around Anthony. "Don't want to...freak him out."

"Right." Anthony extricated himself from House and returned to the stove. He felt a hand at his waist and House's warm breath on the back of his head. "Hey, now. Thought you didn't want to freak out Wilson?"

"It's okay if...I do it." House chuckled, brushing his lips along the back of Anthony's neck. "He's my friend. It's my...job to freak...him out." He set his chin on the younger man's shoulder. "So why...this shirt? I've got a...million of them."

Anthony's mouth quirked upward in a small smile. "It's the one you wore on our first lunch date."

"Is that...right?" House was still baffled. "So why...steal it?"

"I just...I don't know. I just like it, that's all." Anthony could feel the heat rising to his cheeks under House's line of questioning.

"Piss poor...explanation." House grumbled, turning his head ever so slightly to take in the clean scent that wafted off the younger man's neck. It blended with House's own scent that drifted from the dark blue button down, and House tried to remember the last time he had worn it.

"You wore it the day before you went into the ER." Anthony seemed to read House's mind. "I stopped over here to check in on things and found it, and...I kind of...kept it." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "Guess it was sort of a way to keep you with me, if that makes any sense."

It made nearly perfect sense to House. "I...might still have...your shirt from...you know."

"I wondered what happened to that thing." Anthony chuckled as he stirred up the chili. He glanced at House, who still hung over his shoulder, his hands rubbing lightly up and down his arms. "So I'm not a sentimental idiot?"

"If you are...so am I." House replied, releasing his hold on Anthony. "And I know...I'm not." He stood for a moment, looking thoughtful. "You held on...to that thing all...that time, which means...you missed me. That's kind of...cool."

"Of course I missed you, you nitwit." Anthony turned around before House could walk away. "I told you I did. Hell, I've _shown_ you I've missed you."

"This is...different." House shook his head. "And don't ask...me why, because I...don't know. It just...is."

Anthony fixed House with a warm smile, pulling House in close and drawing him in for a brief kiss. House tried to deepen the kiss, but Anthony pulled away, shaking his head. "Not while your BFF's around, remember?"

"Tease." House harumphed, taking one more quick kiss before returning to the living room. He flopped himself on the couch once again, glaring at Wilson's amused expression. "What?!"

"Nothing." Wilson quickly covered with an innocent look as he finished his beer. "Just...nothing."

House rolled his eyes and bellowed toward the kitchen, "I _told_ you...he'd get all squeamish."

Anthony merely shook his head as Wilson responded, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He finished off his beer and rose from the couch. "Sorry, I'm not going to get all grossed out at seeing you openly express affection towards another human being."

House twisted his mouth in an odd half-smile. "Obviously I'm not...trying hard enough."

Wilson sighed and shook his head as he pulled another beer out of the refrigerator. He pulled out his wallet and took out a ten dollar bill, preparing to hand it to Anthony.

Anthony turned around to wipe his hands off on the kitchen towel he had slung over his shoulder, regarding the cash with a skeptical look. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"What? No!" Wilson's eyes went wide. "It's just...a little something for the beer."

Anthony's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Put it away, Wilson. Greg already covered it."

A puzzled expression crossed Wilson's face as he slowly put the money back in his wallet. "This has got to be some sort of alternate universe. House _never _pays for anything."

"I don't know what to tell you." Anthony started gathering ingredients for cornbread to go with the chili that was simmering away on the stove.

Wilson frowned in thought as he sipped at his beer, moving aside when Anthony needed to get into the refrigerator. He watched as Anthony moved easily around the kitchen, almost as if he owned the place. "You bake, too? No wonder House keeps you around."

Anthony chuckled as he mixed the cornbread, poured the batter in a pan, and placed it in the oven. "I'm not much of a baker, really. Cornbread and the occasional batch of cookies are about all I can manage."

"I can't even manage that." Wilson smiled slightly. "I'm a fairly decent cook, but baking's kind of beyond me."

"That's not what I hear." Anthony gave Wilson a meaningful look. "From what Greg's told me, you make these kick-ass macadamia nut pancakes. 'Orgasm on a plate', I believe is how he once described them."

Wilson blushed at House's unique assessment, dropping his eyes to the floor and shoving one hand in his pocket. "How very...House."

"Yeah, he's quite the character, isn't he?" Anthony turned back too the stove to stir up the chili.

Wilson nearly choked on his beer. "I don't think I've _ever_ heard House described that way."

Anthony turned and leaned against the counter next to the stove. "Why not? It's true."

"Oh, I agree with you." Wilson asserted. "It's just that most people don't see him as a...'character'."

A slight smile crept onto Anthony's lips. "Most people don't know him like we do, am I right?"

"I've known him for over fifteen years. You've known him for what, a month or so? Pretty big gap in the House knowledge base, wouldn't you say?" Wilson could feel a small flame of jealousy creeping up in him, and he cursed himself for it.

"Wilson, we're not in competition for Greg." Anthony sighed in something like frustration. "You love him in your way, and I love him in mine. Any way you look at it, Greg benefits from that."

Wilson had to admit that Anthony made a good point. He glanced down at the bottle in his hand, suddenly ashamed at his brief fit of jealousy. Anthony seemed to pick up on his thoughts, tilting his head at the other man. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, of course not." Wilson sighed, a hint of a smile crossing his face. "Just thinking."

"Anything in particular?"

Wilson laughed to himself, rubbing the back of his neck while he tried to put together his thoughts in some coherent fashion. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad House has someone in his life. I just always assumed that someone would be a woman."

Anthony couldn't help but chuckle a little at that. "So he doesn't tell you everything either. That's kind of good to know." His expression turned serious. "Are you okay with...what's going on?"

"What choice do I have?" Wilson shrugged. "He's my friend, I want him to be happy, and so far...he seems to be. As happy as House gets, anyway." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "He's been hurting for...a long time, and I don't just mean the leg."

"I'm well aware of that." Anthony's voice turned quiet. "Whatever I can do to lessen that hurt...that's what I want to do for him."

"That's a pretty monumental task." Wilson felt himself choke up a little at Anthony's words. He couldn't recall another person expressing such care and concern for House. "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?"

Anthony smiled a little. "Greg tried to warn me off, too. It hasn't worked yet."

Wilson nodded. That sounded a little more like the House he knew. "He's very good at pushing people away."

"He thinks he is." Anthony took a long drink of his beer. "I've become very good at not letting him push me away."

Wilson's face broke into a small grin. "You're tougher than I gave you credit for, then."

Anthony threw Wilson another meaningful look. "Just because I'm a queer doesn't mean I'm a sissy." He drained the last of his beer. "Besides...I believe Greg is very much worth every bit of hell he tries to put us through. At his core, he's a good man."

"Yes, he is. Good to know someone else believes it, too." Wilson suddenly crinkled his brows. "What do you mean, 'us'?"

"You know, Greg and I." Anthony gave Wilson a baffled look as he pulled the cornbread out of the oven and set it on the stove next to the chili. "As far as I'm concerned, we're in this together."

Wilson was a little overwhelmed at Anthony's statement. He wondered what House, the man who always thought of himself as an island, had to say about that.

"Smelling...good." The man in question limped heavily into the kitchen and leaned over Anthony's shoulder. "Are we there...yet?"

"Just about, hon." Anthony placed a hand on House's cheek and gave him a brief kiss. "Grab some bowls and plates, would you?"

"Yes, _dear_." House's voice took on a slightly mocking tone as he glanced over at Wilson.

"Nice try, House." Wilson chuckled as he observed the two men.

"Wilson, there's some cheese and sour cream in the fridge." Anthony interjected before House could escalate his attempts at making Wilson uncomfortable. "Would you grab it, please?"

Wilson took out both items and handed them off to Anthony. "Please, call me James. It's just...weird to hear anyone else call me by my last name."

"Of course." Anthony flashed Wilson a quick smile. "Guess I just got used to hearing it."

House rolled his eyes. "Excuse me if I...interrupt this lovefest. I'm...starving."

Anthony stepped aside to give House the first crack at the chili, rubbing between his shoulder blades affectionately. Wilson didn't miss the look that passed between the two men. This was no mere infatuation on either of their parts, Wilson could see that now.

He blew out a silent sigh of relief. Perhaps this evening wouldn't be nearly as uncomfortable as he had feared it would be. It could even turn out to be a good time. One never knew.

# # #

The three of them gathered in the living room, Wilson and House in their familiar spots on the couch, and Anthony in the armchair. Wilson was quickly finding out that Anthony could easily hold his own with House, and he started to understand the attraction for House. The other man had his own odd sense of humor that seemed to mesh perfectly with House's, and Wilson found himself carried along for the ride.

He finally felt less like an intruder, even as House and Anthony shared their own silly inside jokes and comments. Anthony did his best to include Wilson, and encouraged Wilson to share some of his own House stories, much to House's chagrin and Anthony's amusement. House struck back with a few Wilson stories of his own, and it was clear to Anthony what a strong force Wilson was in House's life.

They were all feeling remarkably mellow after the beer, the chili, and the conversation, and Wilson rose to leave. He was surprised to find himself swaying when he did so until he noticed the empty bottles scattered across the coffee table.

"For Christ's sake, Wilson." House chided him, sounding a couple sheets to the wind himself. "Sit down."

"'Kay." Wilson mumbled, plopping down in the same spot. "Sorry. I didn't plan on...this."

House rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off the couch, leaning heavily on his cane for balance. "You know it's...no problem."

"Easy there, big guy." Anthony rose from the chair, prepared to catch House if need be.

"I'm...fine." House waved the younger man away. "Just going to...hook up Boy Wonder...here."

"It's okay." Wilson was fumbling around in his pocket for his phone. "I'll just give Lillian a call."

"And again...you'd just have to...come back for...your car anyway." House was stumbling around with a pillow, tossing it in Wilson's general direction. "You're staying."

Wilson felt distinctly awkward, much like he had the last time he'd stayed over after their adventure at the sports bar. "Just don't want to...you know...interrupt anything."

Anthony chuckled softly, feeling a bit buzzed himself. "Trust me, honey, the only thing going on in that bedroom tonight will be sleep."

"Speak for...yourself." House grinned wolfishly, clumsily grabbing Anthony around the waist.

"Never mind." Wilson mumbled. "I'll just call a cab."

"Now, James." Anthony scolded him. "You know Greg's notoriously full of shit. You just lay down and get comfortable. We'll see you in the morning."

Wilson reluctantly laid down on the couch, pulling the blanket over him. He could hear House and Anthony wander throughout the apartment, casually chatting as they shut down the place for the night. They sounded just like any other ordinary couple, except for the fact that they were both men.

He was genuinely happy for House, but his comfort level still went up and down. Right now, his comfort level was definitely down. The lights went out, plunging the apartment in darkness, and Wilson could hear House and Anthony laughing and murmuring as they headed down the hall to the bedroom.

A sharp pang of loneliness jabbed at Wilson, and he dug his phone out of his pocket to send Lillian a quick text. In his current state, nothing was quick, and he found himself fumbling with the buttons. He sent it, hoping that it made some sort of sense.

He was rewarded with a ring a few seconds later. "Wilson." He mumbled.

"Are you okay?" Michaels' gentle voice filled Wilson's ear.

"I'm fine." He answered. "Just had a few too many at House's. I'm crashing on the couch. What about you?"

"Busy." She laughed in response. "It's definitely Saturday night in the ER."

"Sorry." Wilson whispered. "Didn't mean to pull you away."

"It's fine, sweetie." Michaels answered affectionately. "I was taking a break anyway." There was a loud crashing sound in the background. "Whoops, spoke too soon. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Sure." Wilson sighed a little in disappointment.

Michaels could hear the disappointment in Wilson's voice. "Hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"I love you."

Wilson thought his heart would burst out of his chest. "I...love you too. Now go...save whoever needs saving."

He closed his phone and tucked it back in his pocket, turning over and cocooning himself under the blanket with a smile as he closed his eyes. She loved him. Wilson was sure he wouldn't hear those words from someone again, not for a good long time, anyway. It was fast in coming, but it felt...right.

Maybe this was how House felt with Anthony. He sure as hell hoped so. This had been a long time coming for both of them, more for House than himself. If Wilson felt so giddy over hearing the words after just over a year, he could only imagine how House felt. The man must be flying high, and not just off a beer buzz.

Down the hall, House and Anthony were just getting settled into their increasingly familiar sleeping posture. House tucked in behind Anthony, one arm firmly wrapped around his waist, the rest of his body pressed against him. He planted a sloppy kiss on the younger man's neck. "You're a good...guy, you know...that?"

"Thank you, hon." Anthony answered sleepily. "Now, why do you say that?"

"For putting up with...me and Wilson all night. Not many...would."

"I don't see why not." Anthony countered. "I like him."

"Me...too." House curled closer to Anthony. "Not like I...like you, though."

Anthony stifled a small chuckle. "That's good. I'd hate to think I'd have to fight him for you."

House was silent for a moment before answering seriously. "I haven't thought...of him like that for...a long time."

"I know, hon. I was just teasing you."

House pressed several kisses along Anthony's neck. "You're the only...one I want, 'kay? I love...Wilson, too, but...like a...brother. I love you like...you're not supposed to...love a brother."

Anthony turned over, touching a finger to the older man's lips. "You don't have to explain yourself."

Even in the dark, Anthony could feel those blue eyes boring into him. House roughly stroked Anthony's shoulder and arm, a somber expression on his face. "You know why...I like you?"

"Do tell." Anthony slipped an arm over House's waist.

"You've never...tried to fix me." House's thoughts were jumbled, and he paused in an attempt to organize them. "Do you know...why I was at...the bar the night...we met?"

"No, why?"

"It was my first...day back after...you know, everything." House started. "Everyone treated me...like I was made...of glass. You...never did. Still don't." He moved to trail one finger down Anthony's cheek. "I...really like that."

"Oh, honey." Anthony pulled House close. "You're so much tougher than you give yourself credit for. Look at everything that's happened to you. Not only are you still here, you're a stronger man for it." He planted a firm kiss on House's lips. "You're just like the phoenix. Don't you see that?"

"Not...really." House murmured. "I've been...fucking things up...for a long time."

"Maybe so, but that's only part of your story." Anthony whispered.

"I'm tired." House mumbled. "Night."

Anthony knew better than to push the point. Instead he curled against House, lightly kissing the spot between his collarbones. "Good night." One of these days he hoped House would eventually see himself as Anthony did. A fighter, a survivor, one who rose above the thousand challenges his life had presented. House was a little cracked, but who wouldn't be after all he had been through? Anthony considered it a small miracle that the man was still functional at all.

He would only improve, Anthony was sure of that. He hoped so, anyway. Anthony knew he would do everything he could to ensure that House stayed on his path, and he knew Wilson would, too.

# # #

Anthony's eyes flew open when he heard a loud crash, followed by a strangled cry next to him. He bolted to the side of the bed to find House splayed out, eyes wide, his whole body shaking.

"Greg?! What happened?" Anthony immediately rolled off the bed to join House on the floor.

The bedroom door crashed open to reveal a rumpled Wilson, eyes filled with concern. "Everything okay in here?"

"I'm...fine." House seemed to recover fairly quickly, slowly pushing himself to a sitting position. "Just...ran out of bed."

Wilson pulled a penlight out of his jeans pocket, checking House's eyes. "Pupils are even and reactive. Does it hurt anywhere other than the usual?"

"I told you...I'm...fine." House growled waving Wilson away.

"Looks like you bumped your head." Anthony observed.

"Must have been...when I fell to the..._floor_." House rolled his eyes. "It's kind of...a long way...down."

"If you're sure..." Wilson looked doubtful.

House looked thoughtful for a long moment before firmly nodding his head. "Go back...to sleep."

Wilson paused before closing the bedroom door, lingering just outside it. He knew there was more to the story, but if House refused to tell it, there was no way to force it out of him. Even Anthony didn't have that kind of power, Wilson was sure of that.

Inside the bedroom, Anthony gently rubbed House's shoulders, waiting for the barely perceptible shaking to stop. "Must have been one hell of a nightmare. No wonder you didn't want to tell Wilson."

"I don't want...to talk...about it." House's voice was still shaking, although his body had stopped.

"I'm not saying you have to." Anthony responded. "I'm just saying that maybe Wilson should know, too."

"_He'll_ want to talk...about it. And I don't...want to." House's head dropped forward. "I don't want...to be weak...in front of him."

Anthony wrapped his arms around House's chest. "He's your friend, hon. I'm pretty sure he'll understand."

"No...he won't." House replied with a fierceness Anthony wasn't expecting. "He always pushed me...to stay in touch...with him."

It took Anthony a moment to put the pieces together. "You had a nightmare about your dad?"

House groaned and put his face in his hands. He hadn't meant to reveal that part, but of course Anthony would pick up on it.

He took a deep shaky breath as Anthony squeezed him a little tighter. It was almost as if he had no choice but to let that particular cat all the way out of the bag. "I'm...fifty years old. He's been dead...for a year. It's been...years since he's...laid a hand...on me. _Why am I...still scared...of him?_"

Anthony's heart broke for the man that finally broke down in his arms. He had no comforting words for House, nothing that would ease the pain that flowed out of him. All he could do was hold him as House curled into his chest, wrapping himself around Anthony as if he were an anchor.

Wilson felt as if his own heart was being ripped out of his chest. His guilt at all the times he had gotten on House about his relationship with his parents weighed heavily on him. The fact that House was now unloading on Anthony made it much worse, and he didn't know whether to stay outside the door or go home.

Finally, when it seemed House had calmed down somewhat, he tentatively knocked on the bedroom door. "House?"

House shifted away from Anthony and pushed himself back into a sitting position. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

House glanced back at Anthony, almost as if he was asking permission. "Up to you, hon." Anthony told him.

"He'll ask...questions." House spoke quietly.

"Yes, he will." Anthony agreed. "Are you okay with that?"

"I...don't know." House leaned back against Anthony. "Maybe."

"Like I said...it's up to you." Anthony wrapped his arms protectively around House. "It might not be a bad thing to let him in."

House nodded firmly, calling out to Wilson. "Come on...in."

Wilson slowly opened the door and kneeled down in front of House. "I had no idea."

House shrugged, but didn't make eye contact with Wilson. "Not like I...said anything."

Wilson dared to reach out to touch House's hand. "Why didn't you?"

"Figured you'd just...blow me off, think I was...being overdramatic...or something." House stiffened at Wilson's touch, but didn't pull away.

Wilson nodded, knowing there was a good chance that House was correct. "If I'd known..."

"...it wouldn't have...made any difference." House told him firmly. "You can't...fix this. It's...done."

"Maybe I wouldn't have been on your ass about staying in touch with your parents." Wilson finished his thought.

House rolled his eyes. "If it...wasn't this, it would have...been something else." He pulled away from Anthony and pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he did so. He had fallen hard, but he didn't want to draw any more attention to the situation. "I'm going back...to bed. You girls...do what you want."

Anthony and Wilson both huffed in frustration as House pulled the covers over himself, hiding himself from both of them. Wilson shoved his hands in his pockets, gesturing toward the door. "I'll just...head for home."

"No, you don't." Anthony told him firmly. "It's too late. Just go back to sleep. It'll be..." _Okay?_ No, that definitely wasn't the word. "We'll see you in the morning."

Wilson nodded, his head feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton. It was probably better if he stayed, but things had definitely gotten a lot awkward since House's confession. He closed the door behind him, leaving Anthony and House in the room as he returned to the couch.

Anthony climbed back into bed, gently wrapping an arm around House and kissing the back of his neck. House's whole body was still tense, and Anthony could hear him draw in a ragged breath.

"I don't...feel any better." House finally spoke, his back still to Anthony. "I think I...feel worse."

"I don't know what to say." Anthony admitted.

"There's nothing...to say." House rolled over on his back, clutching Anthony's hand in his. "He did some...terrible things to me...in the name of...discipline. Talking about it...doesn't change that."

"I know that." Anthony laid his head on House's shoulder.

"Pain shared...is not always...pain lessened." House continued. "I wish I...hadn't said...anything to Wilson. Now he'll _really_ treat me like...a china doll."

"Maybe not."

House let out a hollow chuckle. "Trust me...he will. Now that he knows...he'll be...oversensitive. It's what...he does."

They were quiet for a long moment before House reached his arm over Anthony to put it around him, pulling the younger man close to him. "I'm glad you...were here. If I had to...break down in front...of someone...better you than Wilson."

Anthony was baffled. "And why is that?"

"Because...you're just...there. You know that...you can't fix it, and you're honest...about it. I think I like...that about you best...of all." House pressed a kiss to the top of Anthony's head. "G'night."

Anthony squeezed House's hand. He was right, of course. What was done couldn't be undone, not with all the therapy in the world. Anthony hoped, at the very least, that the pain would begin to dull somewhat into something easier to deal with. Certainly it would never disappear completely.

# # #

**Your turn now. Push the green button and tell me what you think.**


	41. Chapter 41

**Managed to get one more out before my weekend ended. Once again, I don't own any of them but Anthony.**

# # #

House lay with Anthony against him for what felt like the longest time, waiting for sleep to come. The nightmare had frightened him even more than he had let on to either Wilson or Anthony. He wasn't sure he could have explained the depth of his fear to either man. The little that he had broken down in Anthony's arms was merely the tip of that particular iceberg.

He sighed and shifted again, trying not to wake Anthony. House knew he had put him through a hell of a lot in the aftermath of the nightmare, and there was no reason both of them should go without sleep. He finally gave up and slipped away from Anthony as slowly as he could, brushing a gentle kiss to his temple as he did so.

It was still dark as House carefully made his way down the hallway and through the living room to his piano. He quietly opened the cover over the keys and started playing random chords, feeling the music flow through his fingers, bringing him some measure of peace. There would be no getting back to sleep tonight, he knew that. At least this way, he wouldn't be keeping Anthony awake with his issues.

He paused briefly, startled when he heard a squeaking sound from the direction of the couch. Of course Wilson was still here. House had nearly forgotten. Actually, House had almost hoped that Wilson had gone home after the whole nightmare incident. He was sure Wilson would never let him hear the end of it.

House bent his head over the keys, a soft classical piece flowing out from the keys. He hoped to hold Wilson at bay for as long as he could, and this seemed as good a way as any.

"You know, I can't remember ever hearing you play." Wilson was suddenly over his shoulder, and House couldn't help but feel like the younger man was breathing down his neck.

"I usually don't...play for an audience." House refused to look up, even as Wilson moved to lean against the piano. "Step off. This...isn't a bar."

"Sorry." Wilson quickly stepped away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Think Tony will mind if I start coffee?"

"Nope. And I...wouldn't either." House moved on to a different piece, something with a pop feel to it, but Wilson couldn't place it. He didn't realize how good House was. The man had real talent, and he wondered what other secret talents his oldest friend possessed.

The coffeemaker sputtered to a stop, and Wilson racked his brain as his tired brain tried to remember how House liked his coffee. Finally he gave up, deciding to simply let House know that coffee was ready.

"House..." He stopped when he saw Anthony standing behind House, lightly rubbing the older man's shoulders. The pair appeared to be deep in conversation, and Wilson decided not to disturb them. He returned to his cup of coffee that still sat beside the coffeemaker, leaning against the counter as he took his phone out of his pocket.

Six o'clock. It was later than he thought, but still too early to contact Michaels. After her late night in the ER, he decided it would be better to let her sleep. He would find time to see her later.

The sound of Anthony padding into the kitchen jerked him out of his thoughts as the other man grabbed a pair of mugs, dumping a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into one before filling both mugs. He flashed Wilson a quick, tired smile. "Morning."

"Is that what this is?" Wilson found it difficult to keep the snark out of his voice. The short night and the oncoming hangover were proving to be a bad combination. "Sorry. I guess I didn't sleep as well as I could have."

"I don't think any of us did." Anthony shot Wilson a sympathetic look.

Wilson sighed, last night's guilt bubbling up inside him again. "Maybe I should go."

"You don't have to." Anthony's mouth quirked upward in a small smile. "When else am I going to get a shot at those macadamia nut pancakes?"

Wilson shook his head sadly before draining his mug and setting it in the sink. "Some other time. I get a feeling I'm not exactly welcome here right now."

Anthony's mouth twisted in thought. "He'll come around. Just...be kind to him, okay?"

Wilson nodded numbly. "I would tell you the same thing, but...I know you're already doing that." _And probably doing a better job at it than I am._

Anthony folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. "Don't invest so much of your ego in Greg's happiness. I have the feeling the man had issues long before you came along."

A brief, sad smile crossed Wilson's features as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I just wish he'd talk to me like he talks to you." He cast a glance at the figure bent over the piano. "I've known him over fifteen years, and I feel like I don't know him at all."

Anthony's heart went out to House's oldest friend. "And I wish I had an answer for you."

Wilson nodded. "Thanks for...everything. See you around."

"Sure thing."

House stopped playing as he watched Wilson sit heavily on the couch to put on his shoes. "Taking off?"

"Mm-hm." Wilson looked up, trying to read House's unreadable expression. "Is there..._anything_ I can do?"

House looked back down at the piano keys. "Nope."

Wilson sighed as he stood to leave. "Okay. Give me a call if you're going to work tomorrow, okay?"

House nodded. "Will do."

The apartment door closed heavily behind Wilson, and House released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He jumped slightly when he saw Anthony set down a mug of coffee in front of him, his hand brushing across the back of his shoulders.

"He worries about you, you know." Anthony took a seat on the piano bench next to House.

"I know." House looked thoughtful as he sipped at his coffee. "You and Wilson...make a pretty good...team. And not just...on the coffee."

"Why didn't you tell him that?" Anthony tilted his head. "Seems like just the sort of thing he needs to hear."

"Don't want to...hear a lecture." House set down his coffee and started playing again.

"What on earth would he lecture you about?"

"He'd find...something." House frowned over the keys.

Anthony sighed, moving closer to House and setting down his coffee next to House's. He wrapped his arms around the older man's waist and pressed his cheek against House's shoulder. "Just _talk_ to him, won't you?"

"I can't." House's face changed subtly to an almost sad expression. "He's not...like you. And there's too...much history anyway."

"I think you underestimate him." Anthony asserted. "But I also think he underestimates you."

"Must be nice to...be so goddamn...smart." House growled, too tired to be truly angry with Anthony.

Anthony smiled and kissed House's shoulder. "Smart has nothing to do with it. It's just an observation." He picked up his coffee and wrapped his hands around it. "I think I'll go read in bed for a while. Join me if you want."

"I'll...think about it." House nodded. "Kind of need some...alone time."

"I figured you might." Anthony dropped a kiss on House's head as he left. "See you...whenever."

A slow smile crossed House's weathered features as he watched the younger man pad down the hallway. Everything about him was so casual, so easy, so comfortable. Even last night, when House was falling apart, there was Anthony, simply sitting on the floor with him, holding him, letting him go.

Anthony just always seemed to _know_ what House needed. Whether it was because he was so extraordinarily perceptive, or House was just becoming more transparent, House wasn't sure.

The only thing House knew for sure was that he had had enough alone time to last him a lifetime. He smiled slightly as he closed the lid over the piano keys and picked up his coffee mug, limping heavily down the hallway to join his...

House stopped to consider this. He never did decide on how to refer to Anthony. Maybe his mother called it better than anyone when she called him 'his Tony'.

That sounded pretty good to House. So did hanging out with 'his Tony' on a Sunday morning in bed with a cup of coffee. There was no telling what else it might lead to if the conditions were right.

# # #

House paused at the doorway to the bedroom, tilting his head as he observed Anthony in bed. He was completely absorbed in his book, leaning against the headboard, knees tucked up to his chest, the mug of coffee perched on his chest, his glasses halfway down his nose.

He looked so right there that House almost hated to disturb him. _Almost_. House limped into the bedroom and eased himself into bed next to Anthony, laying his head on the younger man's shoulder. "Good read?"

"Mm-hm." Anthony turned slightly and kissed House on the forehead. "I wasn't counting on seeing you so soon."

"I got...lonely."

"Well, we wouldn't want that." Anthony chuckled affectionately, looking over to study House's face. "Sure you don't want to go back to sleep?"

House's face turned somber. "Not sure I...could if I wanted...to."

"You've got to sleep sometime, hon." Anthony's brow wrinkled in concern.

House rolled his eyes and took a long drink of his coffee. "I thought...Wilson left. Didn't realize he pulled a Quantum...Leap thing...on me."

"I'm serious." Anthony gave him a meaningful look. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"I told you...you're the only one...for me."

"That's not what I meant, silly." Anthony lightly tapped House on the head. "I mean..."

"I know what you...mean. And yes." House huffed in irritation. "I have to. It's a...condition of my...continued employment."

"Have you mentioned anything about the nightmares to this person?"

House's silence gave Anthony his answer. "I take it that's a 'no'."

"Can't we just...go back to enjoying...this?" House reached out to lightly caress Anthony's arm, looking up at Anthony with those soulful blue eyes.

Anthony set aside his book, coffee, and glasses and shifted so that he could look House directly in the eyes. "Let me tell you something." He reached up to lightly stroke House's forehead. "You need to tell someone else about the nightmares. Someone who can do more to help you than either me or James. Someone who isn't...emotionally invested in you."

House stretched across the bed to set his coffee mug down on the night table before laying down, a troubled expression crossing his rough features. To Anthony, he looked...lost.

Anthony shifted again so that he lay down next to House, taking his face in his hand and stroking his cheek. "Talk to me. What's on your mind?"

"Wilson is not...emotionally invested in me." House's expression turned dark as he moved to place his head on Anthony's shoulder.

"I beg to differ." Anthony countered. "If anything, he's overly invested in you."

House scrunched up his face. "I told you...he's straight."

"Not like that, doofus." Anthony smiled a little. "But he's concerned about you to the point of...I don't even know what."

"And you?"

"I'm definitely emotionally invested." Anthony turned to kiss House's temple. "All the more reason for you to let a trained professional do the heavy emotional lifting."

"So I...lean on you...too much." House sounded hurt.

"That's not what I said." Anthony told him firmly. "All I'm saying is that I can't fix you. Only you can do that. But you knew that already."

"Tell Wilson...that." House grumbled. "He's been trying...to fix me for years."

"_You_ should tell Wilson that." Anthony replied. "He's your friend. You owe him some honesty."

A soft 'hmph' was House's only answer. Anthony wrapped his arms around House, pulling him in close. He tensed briefly, then relaxed, almost as if he was surrendering. "Are you mad at me now?"

"Not...mad." House answered. "Just not used...to someone being...so blunt with me. That's usually...my thing."

"Sure." Anthony acknowledged. "Nobody likes to have their tactics turned around on them."

"Hush...you." House growled as he almost reluctantly reached out to wrap an arm around Anthony. "I think I...liked you better when...you weren't so damned..._emotionally invested_."

"That's a damn lie." Anthony kissed the top of House's head, taking in his scent. "Nothing's changed."

"Now _that's_...a damn lie." House's voice went almost whisper soft. "I crashed...last night. The phoenix went...up in flames again."

"And that phoenix is going to come back stronger." Anthony answered. "It always does."

House buried his face in the space between Anthony's shoulder and neck, and Anthony could feel the wetness as it soaked the collar of his t-shirt. As he did the night before, Anthony simply held him close, lightly stroking House's head while the emotional storm raged.

Eventually he felt House's breathing settle into something more regular, and House lifted his head, wincing at the sight of Anthony's t-shirt. "You're going to...get sick of me ruining...your shirts pretty soon."

"Eh, they're washable. I'm not worried." Anthony lightly stroked House's cheek. "Better?"

House pushed himself away from Anthony and shrugged. "Hard to say. I'll...be back."

House slowly made his way to the bathroom and splashed what felt like a gallon of cold water on his face. He finally got a good look at himself in the mirror. God, what a mess. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, and his wrinkles seemed even more prominent than usual. He was hard pressed to find anything likeable in the face that looked back at him. _Old, emotionally and physically crippled, BROKEN._ That was what stared down House in the mirror. What the hell was someone like Anthony doing with such a miserable piece of shit as himself?

The voice in his head was starting to sound more and more like the voice of his nightmare, and suddenly House clenched his fists, doing everything in his power not to smash the mirror.

A knock on the bathroom door startled him. "Greg? Do you need something?"

"No." He answered, much sharper than he'd intended. "I'm good."

"You don't sound good." Anthony answered through the door.

The door flung open, and House stood before him, a mixture of hurt, anger, and vulnerability crossing his face. "Why are you...still here?" He demanded.

Anthony was baffled. "Haven't we covered this?"

"I need...to know." House looked as if he might crumble again, standing on shaking legs, those blue eyes like lasers boring into Anthony's brain.

Anthony stepped forward, taking the older man into his arms and pressing his body as close as he could to House. "First of all...I'm here because I love you." He smoothed his hands over House's back. "After that, there are too many other reasons. I couldn't possibly list them all."

"Try." House's voice was shaking as he slowly wrapped his arms around the younger man.

Anthony pulled back just enough to look House in the eye, lightly caressing his face with one hand. "You are...gorgeous, brilliant, funny, sarcastic, passionate, and never, ever boring. Life with you has been one hell of an adventure, and I'm not interested in getting off the ride anytime soon."

House studied Anthony's face, looking for any sign of a lie. He couldn't find one, and he simply shook his head. "You could do...so much better...than me."

"Define better." Anthony countered. "Better looking? Fewer...issues? If that's the case, that's probably true." He leaned in for a long kiss, and House kissed him back with a fierceness and intensity that was unmatched by anyone Anthony had ever known. They pulled apart, breathing heavily, and Anthony almost lost his train of thought. "But...if that is better...I don't want it. I like what I have right here."

House's expression changed almost imperceptibly, and Anthony knew he had pulled him back from the edge once again. He lightly kissed him, allowing his hands to wander down to the small of House's back. "What do you say to a nice long _hot_ shower, seeing as we're already in here?"

A small smile made its way onto House's weathered features, and a spark seemed to light in those insanely blue eyes again. "I could...go for that."

"Thought you might." Anthony whispered as he started to undress the older man. House wasn't far behind, fumbling with the tie on Anthony's sleep pants before pushing them to the floor and sliding his t-shirt over the younger man's head.

Soon they were in the shower, the hot spray washing over them as they washed each other, their bodies sliding against each other, their combined scents driving them to new heights. Anthony easily slid to his knees in front of House, caressing his strong legs as he took him into his mouth, rolling his tongue over him, his lips brushing against the hair at his core.

House closed his eyes and tangled his hand in Anthony's hair, thrilled by Anthony's sudden fierceness and passion where he was normally so tender, and he went over in a rush, a loud groan escaping him as his legs shook under him.

Anthony quickly bounced back to his feet, sticking his head under the shower to get to House, pressing his lips to House's, teasing his way into his mouth with his tongue, tangling furiously with House's.

House moved his hands all over Anthony, caressing everywhere he could possibly reach, feeling the firm muscle under smooth skin and rough hair, reaching down to stroke Anthony. Anthony gasped and groaned into House's mouth, wrapping one arm around him while catching himself against the shower wall with the other, tensing against the older man, shaking as he broke away from House's mouth to press a series of kisses along his shoulder, finally relaxing against him with a long, satisfied sigh.

"Any...more questions?" Anthony gasped as he lightly kissed House's neck.

"Just...one." House gave Anthony a teasing look. "Why are we...standing around in...a cold shower instead of...laying down in a...warm bed?"

Anthony laughed as he bent down to shut off the water, kissing House firmly on the lips when he came back up. "I don't have a good answer for that one."

"Good." House smiled softly, stroking Anthony's cheek. "Might as well head that way."

Anthony snorted as he released House and climbed out of the shower. He could get used to spending his Sundays like this. It sounded like a damned fine idea to him, and it seemed that House felt the same way. Anthony hoped to be able to do this for many Sundays to come.

# # #

**Now it's your turn. Read and review! :)**


	42. Chapter 42

**Insert usual disclaimers here. I don't own them, never have, never will. Still like playing with them, though.**

# # #

House slowly opened his eyes, slightly disoriented in the early morning light. He could hear Anthony padding around the bedroom humming to himself, and House shifted himself onto his elbows to see the younger man packing up his bag.

"Trying to sneak...out of here without...saying goodbye?"

Anthony turned at the sound of House's voice as he continued packing. "Now, would I do that?"

House tilted his head, making out Anthony's shape in the semi-darkness. "Don't know. Would you?"

"Of course not." Anthony climbed onto the bed, bending over House for a quick kiss. "I was just going to check in at my place before I went to work, that's all." He shifted so he sat next to House, placing a hand on either side of him. "So what about you? You never did call James yesterday."

"I'm...going." House lay back down on the bed, folding his hands under his head. "Figured I'd...ride the bike in."

Anthony's eyebrows shot up at House's statement. "You sure that's a good idea?"

House rolled his eyes. "Don't you...start."

"I'm not starting anything." Anthony answered. "I'm just saying...he _did_ offer."

"I'll think...about it."

"Sure you will." Anthony chuckled, leaning down for another small kiss. "And then you'll just do what you want anyway."

"Wow." House's eyes went wide, mocking the younger man. "It's almost like you...think you know...me or...something."

"Well, whatever you do...be careful out there."

"Yeah, yeah." House grumbled, casually placing an arm around Anthony's waist. "So...you have to go...right now?"

"Mmm...probably not just yet." Anthony spoke casually, moving so he lay across House's chest. "I just figured I'd give myself some extra time."

"Good." House ran his hand up and down Anthony's back. "I'm thinking that...you might need it."

Anthony drew himself closer to House, dropping a soft kiss on the older man's lips. "You didn't get enough of me yesterday?"

"Hell, no." House's bright blue eyes crinkled as he gripped the back of Anthony's head, drawing him in for a deeper kiss. "I'm not sure...I ever could."

"Same here, hon." Anthony softly whispered, his lips leaving a trail along House's scruffy jaw before moving down his neck to the hollow space just above his collarbone, evoking a soft gasp from the older man. "Like that, do you?"

"You know I...do." House answered roughly, slipping his hands under Anthony's shirt to feel the muscle flexing under his skin as Anthony kept moving downward, leaving a moist trail down his chest. He stopped just above the waistband of House's sleep pants, pausing to prop himself up on one elbow while tracing patterns on House's stomach with one finger.

House squirmed under the touch, his growing desire evident as he roughly caressed the back of Anthony's head. "Stop...teasing me."

Anthony smiled a little at House's soft pleading. He did love to draw out this part, building the anticipation almost to the point where neither man could take it anymore. As far as Anthony was concerned, it made the finish that much sweeter.

He spread his hand out along House's stomach, dropping a few kisses near House's waist, listening to the soft groans that followed his ministrations. Finally, when he sensed that House was getting close to the point of no return, he shifted so that he was over the older man once again, untying his pants and sliding them off his body while House deftly undid his jeans and started to push them off Anthony.

Anthony finished the job, returning to lay his body on top of House's. House made quick work of Anthony's shirt, tossing it off to the side, paying no attention to where it landed. His only focus was the man that pressed his body against his, rocking in quick, steady rhythm until the younger man tensed up and shook against him. Anthony relaxed against House, gently kissing his way back up his chest and capturing his lips in a long, tender kiss as he finished him off, and House sank into the mattress with a soft groan.

"God, you're amazing." Anthony murmured in House's ear, shifting so that he lay alongside House, placing a hand at his waist.

House's only reply was a low chuckle. "Usually I pay...tens of dollars to...hear that."

"Stop it." Anthony couldn't help but laugh in return, curling against House as the older man wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm serious." House's tone changed slightly. "It's been a...long time since I...haven't had to pay to...get laid."

"Well, no need to worry about that now." Anthony pressed a light kiss to House's cheek. "The only payment I'll demand is more of the same."

A slow smile curved across House's lips as he lightly caressed Anthony's arm. "That...I can do. Doesn't seem to...cost me as much."

"Good." Anthony squeezed House before rolling away. "And now I do have to go. Need another shower before I head on."

"Need help?" House's eyes popped open as he grinned teasingly.

"Not the kind you're offering." Anthony laughed and dropped a kiss on the older man's forehead. "I'll never get out the door if you 'help'."

"What's wrong...with that?" House threw Anthony a look of mock innocence.

"Nothing, except...I'll have some very irate clients, and I won't make any money."

House rolled his eyes in response. "Details, details."

"I know." Anthony chuckled affectionately as he collected his clothes. House lifted his head just enough to watch him go, flopping back down on the pillow after Anthony closed the bathroom door behind him.

House was still surprised by Anthony's words. The boy thought _he_ was amazing? He didn't know what to think of that. House was still pretty sure it was the other way around. Anyone who would put up with him for even this short stretch of time had to be...well, if not amazing, then damn close.

He had put Anthony through the wringer in their short time together, House knew that. Still, the boy, for whatever reason, seemed determined to stick with him. It was more than anyone had done for him in a very long time.

House pushed himself into a sitting position, grabbing a nearby t-shirt to carelessly wipe himself off, tossing it somewhere near the clothes hamper before finding his pants that had mysteriously disappeared under the covers. He was just tugging them over his body when Anthony returned to the bedroom, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"You're not going back to sleep?" Anthony asked, baffled.

"Nope." House rose from the bed to meet Anthony where the younger man was bent over his bag. "I'm good and...awake now."

Anthony turned toward House with a laugh, wrapping his arms around House's waist and pulling him close. "That's good. I'll call you later, okay?"

"I'll look forward...to it." House bent down for a quick kiss. There was so much that he wanted to say in that moment, but he couldn't quite get it out.

Anthony caught the thoughtful frown on House's face, tilting his head. "Something wrong?"

"No...just...I don't know." House's voice turned soft, and he averted his eyes from Anthony's gaze.

Anthony reached up to caress House's cheek, lightly stroking with his thumb. "You know you can tell me, right?"

House twisted his mouth, clearly debating the matter. "It's nothing...bad. Just..." Finally he seemed to give up, pulling Anthony close to him to whisper in his ear. "Thanks for putting up...with me."

"I hardly think of it as 'putting up with you'." Anthony responded, moving one hand to the back of House's head. "If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be here." He drew House closer. "Believe me when I tell you you're worth it."

House felt the lump growing in his throat as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Finally he released Anthony, stepping away just enough to give the younger man room to leave the room. "You'd better go. It's...getting a little...mushy in here."

"Right." Anthony let House go with a brief kiss on the cheek. "Take it easy today, okay?"

"No...promises." House rolled his eyes.

Anthony shook his head as he slung his bag across his chest. "If I didn't care, I wouldn't bother to say anything. I'll see you later."

House had to admit that Anthony had a point. He followed the younger man down the hallway, separating at the living room as Anthony left. As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he briefly considered giving Wilson a call. If he was quick enough, he could probably catch the oncologist before he left.

But that would mean listening to him attempt to get House to talk to him about the other night, not to mention listening to him admonish him for even attempting to go against Cuddy's firm demand that he take more time off. Today, he was feeling too good to be bothered with that, so he let the idea go.

He finished off his coffee and made his way to the bathroom to start getting ready for work, steeling himself for what lay ahead. If he could dodge Wilson and Cuddy, he stood a good chance of having a decent day. If he couldn't...well, he'd cross that bridge if he got to it.

# # #

House strode through the lobby as quickly as he could, hoping to avoid Cuddy on his way up to his office.

"House!" The sharp voice behind him let him know that his plan was foiled.

"I'm not really...here." He announced as he stepped on the elevator, Cuddy hot on his heels. House fixed her with a sharp glare. "You going to...kick me out?"

Cuddy sighed. "It wouldn't do any good anyway." She handed him a case file. "Hand this off to Foreman, and you take it easy this week, got it?"

House's eyes lit up a little as he scanned the case file. "No...clinic duty?"

"Not this week." Cuddy answered. "You can make up your hours next week."

"Good enough." The elevator stopped, and House watched as Cuddy stepped off, her hips swaying slightly as she walked away. No matter what, he could never get enough of that view. He smirked to himself as he rode to the fourth floor. Yes, today was shaping up to be an excellent day.

He pushed through the door to his office, drawing startled looks from the three doctors that sat around the conference room table. After dumping his backpack and hanging his jacket and helmet, he limped into the conference room and casually tossed the file on the table.

"New...case. Discuss. I'll be in...my office."

If any of the three doctors were puzzled by House's slower speech pattern, it didn't show. Taub and Thirteen started to look over the file while Foreman rose from the table to follow House into his office.

House glanced at the neurologist as he sat down at his desk. "What?"

Foreman regarded him with an arched eyebrow. "Are you supposed to be here?"

House shrugged as he logged on and checked his e-mail. "I'm..fine. Just need to...take it easy for...a few days."

"Right." Foreman frowned as he watched the older doctor's slow, deliberate movements. Everything seemed relatively normal so far. "I took a look at your case file over the weekend."

House turned away from his monitor. "Find anything...interesting?"

"Possibly." Foreman turned to the lightboard, where he had House's CT scans. "Take a look for yourself."

House rose from his chair to study the scans. "Doesn't look like...there's anything there."

"It's small, but it's there." Foreman pointed to a small section of one scan. "This shows the damage to your speech processing center. I suspect that was due to the seizures, not the illness. I can get you in for another one to see how you're progressing."

"That'd be...good." House nodded. He wasn't sure how he would handle this new disability if it were permanent. The idea troubled him.

"I don't think the damage is permanent." Foreman seemed to read House's mind. "Your speech has improved a good deal since you first regained consciousness."

House shrugged. "It gives me a...good excuse to get out...of clinic duty."

Foreman rolled his eyes. "Leave it to you to find the bright side. I'll let you know when I can get you that CT."

House nodded, picking up his file and flipping through it. Nothing unusual jumped out at him, but the idea that he had come down sick, but no one else had still bothered him. "No other cases?"

"None." Foreman frowned in frustration. "It seems like either Tony or even Wilson should have shown some symptoms. Where were you the night before?"

"Sports bar."

"Was it crowded?" Foreman was continuing with his personal differential.

House frowned, trying to remember. Everything prior to him coming down sick blended together. "You'd have to...ask Wilson. I don't really...remember."

Foreman could see that he was pushing House a little too hard. "Later. I'll go ahead and get started on our current case."

House nodded, returning to his e-mail. The most recent message from Cuddy had bumped his hearing with the board back two weeks, pushing it almost back to Christmas. Regaining control of his department would be one hell of a Christmas present, that was for sure.

"House?" Wilson's familiar voice carried to him as he pushed open his office door. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What's it...look like?" House answered. "I'm...working."

Wilson's brows scrunched together in a mixture of concern and frustration. "Please tell me you at least drove your car here."

"I plead the...fifth."

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Wilson nearly exploded, throwing his hands in the air. "Why the hell didn't you call me? I offered you a ride, remember?"

"You told me...I shouldn't be here at...all." House glared at him.

"I said you _probably _wouldn't be ready to come back." Wilson snapped in response, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

"What?!" House shoved himself out of his chair, slowly limping toward the balcony and flinging open the door.

Wilson quickly followed, catching the door just before it flew shut. "I offer my help, and you reject it. I try to get you to talk to me, and you shut me down." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Is Tony really that much better than I am?"

"You think...this is what...it's all about?" House turned and leaned against the railing, an incredulous expression on his face.

Wilson shrugged. "You said he takes better care of you than I do."

House twisted his mouth at that. "I didn't mean...it like that."

"How else was I supposed to take it, House?" Wilson's voice dropped to a quieter tone, and he shivered slightly in the cool air. "I've known you fifteen years, he's known you a month. I guess I just have a hard time believing that he's better for you than I am."

"This isn't about you...and your damned...ego." House's face turned dark. "You've been a good...friend to me. Probably better than...I deserve."

"But?"

"But..." House twirled his cane in his hand with a thoughtful expression. "This thing with...Tony, it's just..."

"Different. I know." Wilson paced around the balcony, finally stopping to face House. "So what do we do now?"

"What we've always...done." House shrugged. "Nothing's changed. If anything...you get to share...the load. You should be...grateful to the...guy."

"So you're just going to keep hiding and deflecting from me, meanwhile Tony gets to hear everything, right?" Wilson couldn't help the note of sarcasm that crept into his voice. "You don't trust me."

"I do...trust you." House spoke quietly. "Who did I call...when everything was...going to hell in a...handbasket? Pretty sure that...was you."

"If Tony had been around..."

"Oh, come off it!" House thumped his cane on the floor of the balcony. "Would you be this...upset if...Tony were a...woman?!"

Wilson's shoulders sagged, and House knew he had his answer. "I thought you were...okay with this."

"Are you asking my permission to hook up with a guy?" Wilson's sharp tone continued unabated. "You're a big boy now, remember? You can handle your own damned relationships."

House tapped his cane repeatedly against the balcony floor. "He's not going...away anytime...soon. And...I don't tell him...everything...either." He finally looked up to meet Wilson's eyes. "So you can damn well...quit being jealous...or hit the...road."

Wilson's eyes went round at House's harsh words. "You'd throw away fifteen years of friendship over one person?"

House's eyes narrowed. "You did."

Those two words cut Wilson to the quick, and he suddenly found himself squirming uncomfortably under House's steely gaze. He ran his fingers through his hair, bringing his hand to rest on the back of his neck. "That was different. Nobody's dying here."

"Doesn't make it...right." House pushed away from the railing and shoved past Wilson on his way back into his office. "There's Foreman. Probably has something...about our case."

"Can't we talk about this?" Wilson's voice sounded ragged to his own ears.

"Nothing to talk...about." House crossed the room to meet with Foreman, briefly consulting him on something related to their newest case.

Wilson was silent, watching as House plopped back down in his desk chair and returned to his computer, opening his web browser. Clearly the conversation was over, and Wilson finally moved to leave.

After the office door closed, House let out a ragged sigh. He hadn't meant to let the conversation spiral so far out of control. Their friendship had shifted once again, and House couldn't help but hear those words Wilson had spoken so harshly not that long ago. _We're not friends, House. I'm not sure we ever were._

Even now, as House mindlessly surfed the Internet, he found himself doubting the strength of his and Wilson's friendship. He didn't want to lose Wilson. Hell, he needed Wilson. He just wished he knew how to let Wilson know that without being so...Wilson about it.

Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now" sang out of his phone, signaling a call from Anthony. House flipped open the phone to answer. "Hey, you."

"Hey, hon." Anthony's warm voice brought out a small smile from House. "Free for lunch?"

"I...could be." House pushed himself out of his chair to pace around the room. "Let me check...in on a couple...of things and I'll meet you...in a few minutes."

"Sounds good. Usual place?"

A full grin crossed House's weathered features. "Yeah...the usual place."

He punched the 'end' button and proceeded to call Foreman to keep him posted on his whereabouts before grabbing his jacket and leaving his office. For the time being, he hoped he wouldn't run into Wilson. Maybe after lunch with Anthony, he would be in a better frame of mind to try and patch things up with Wilson. Anthony might even be able to provide a little insight into the situation. One never knew.

# # #

**Now it's your turn. Read and review.**


	43. Chapter 43

**Insert usual disclaimers here. I only lay claim to Anthony. Everyone else belongs to Fox and David Shore.**

# # #

Anthony lifted his head when he heard the bell sound over the door of the deli, and he smiled when he saw House enter. The older man took off his sunglasses and shoved them in his jacket pocket, limping heavily to join Anthony in the booth, rubbing his thigh as he slid into the booth.

"Something wrong?" Anthony was concerned by the stricken expression that seemed to cross House's face.

"Nothing...much." House's eyes seemed to dart everywhere, never settling anywhere for more than a second. "Tried to talk to...Wilson."

"Yeah? How did that go?"

"I fucked it...up." House looked more devastated upon the admission, if that was possible.

Anthony crinkled his brow. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"Told him he...could get over being jealous...or...hit the road."

Anthony sucked in his breath. "Oh, honey."

"I know, I know." House leaned back in the booth, groaning and covering his face. "I'm an...idiot."

"You're not an idiot." Anthony reached across the table to touch House's arm.

House sighed heavily and leaned forward on the table, stretching his hands out to meet Anthony's. "I don't want...to lose him."

"Then swallow your pride and handle your business." Anthony told him firmly, taking both of House's hands in his.

A slow smile crept onto House's face at the words. "Did that really...come out of your mouth?"

Anthony shrugged. "Simon gave me that little piece of advice years ago. It seemed to fit."

"Simon's a very...smart guy." House studied the stubborn set of Anthony's jaw.

"Why do you think I keep him around?" Anthony's face seemed to relax as House absorbed his words. "So...you're going to try to talk to James again?"

"I don't know...if he'll want to...now." House's face clouded over with doubt.

"The two of you have a deep history. It'd be a shame to throw that all away." Anthony lightly stroked the back of House's hand with his thumb. "You owe it to both of you to try."

"And if I...fail?"

Anthony paused, carefully considering his answer. The last thing he wanted to do was take House away from Wilson. The two men clearly needed each other, and their bond ran deep, much deeper than either one of them knew, Anthony suspected. "I don't think you will, but if you do...it won't be your fault."

"That's not good...enough." House's voice was soft and sharp at the same time.

Anthony sighed in frustration, trying to find a way to rephrase things. "Human relationships are even more complicated than your medical puzzles. You can't give them the right drugs and fix them immediately. There's much more to it than that. They take work, and care, and attention." He squeezed House's hands. "You and James won't fix things overnight, but maybe one of you can make a start at it."

House nodded firmly, more determined than ever to start making things...better with Wilson. The waitress soon came to take their orders, and the two men fell into their usual easy conversation, and House found himself wishing he could find that easy groove with Wilson again.

Soon they finished their lunch, and they walked out into the bright autumn sunshine. Anthony tentatively touched House on the shoulder, and the older man surprised him by pulling him into a full hug, lightly kissing his cheek.

"Are you okay?" Anthony returned the hug, lightly patting House on the back.

"Maybe." House murmured. "Guess we'll...find out."

Anthony smiled against House's shoulder. "Keep me posted."

"Will do." House pulled away almost as quickly as he had wrapped himself around Anthony. "Call you...later."

"Bye." Anthony watched as the older man slowly limped across the street and disappeared. His heart ached for both House and Wilson, and he hoped he had been of some assistance in the matter. He didn't want to have to pick up the pieces if their friendship somehow fell apart.

# # #

A knock at his office door made Wilson take notice as he and Michaels enjoyed their lunch. "It's open!"

The door swung open to reveal House, an unreadable expression on his face. He simply stood in the doorway for a moment, as if undecided. "I'll...come back."

"I was just leaving." Michaels rose from the chair in front of Wilson's desk. "My lunch break's nearly over, anyway." She shot Wilson a meaningful look. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye." Wilson watched as House stepped aside ever so slightly to let Michaels pass before limping in and closing the door behind him. The older man took a seat on the leather couch, tapping his cane against the carpeted floor.

The silence seemed to stretch out between them, and neither man seemed to want to break it. Finally House puffed out his cheeks, blowing out a loud sigh. Anthony's words still rattled in his mind. _Swallow your pride and handle your business._ The younger man was right. House hated to admit it, but there is was.

At his desk, Wilson nervously fiddled with a pen as he glanced over a patient file. He wished that House would just say what he had to say and get out. It was sure to be nothing good, based on how they had left things just before lunch.

House leaned forward, setting his forehead on his cane. Finally he seemed to collect himself, lifting his head to make direct eye contact with Wilson. "I shouldn't have thrown...Amber in...your face."

Wilson visibly relaxed, setting down his pen and folding his hands in front of him on the desk. "And I've got no right to be jealous of Tony." House gave Wilson a baffled look, and Wilson shrugged in response. "Yes, you're right. Happy?"

"Not...really." House frowned, tapping his cane on the floor. He wasn't sure if he wanted to express his next thought. Finally he decided to throw it out there. "I don't want...you to go away...again."

Wilson felt a pang of guilt at House's words, and he glanced down at his fingers as he twisted them together. "I wasn't going to go anywhere, unless..." He looked up to study House's troubled expression. "...unless that's what you really wanted."

House shook his head, fighting the emotion that threatened to rise up in him. "I already told you...that."

"Then what do you want from me?" Wilson asked quietly.

House looked thoughtful, staring at the floor for a long moment. "I want it to be...like it was. Except for the part...where you...keep trying to fix...me. I'll handle that...part."

Wilson nodded slowly. He had to admit, that was one aspect of Anthony that he could stand to emulate. There had been too many times over the years that either he or Cuddy had tried an end run around House instead of being direct with him, often with disastrous results. "You have come a long way in a short time. I guess I'm just not used to seeing you on an upswing."

A small smile twitched on House's face. "Not sure I'd call...it that."

"I would." House lifted his head at Wilson's words, a confused expression crossing his rough face. Wilson stood from his chair and rounded his desk to lean against the front, his hands on either side of him. "I guess I've been so wrapped up in worrying about you that I've failed to see how far you've come. When I see you and Tony together...it's almost like..." Wilson tried to make a comparison and failed. "To hell with it. There is nothing to compare it to."

House smirked and leaned on his cane. "Damn right there...isn't."

Wilson rolled his eyes in mild exasperation. "That's not what I meant. I mean...I see how he treats you. No wonder you're more...open with him."

The smirk left House's face as quickly as it had appeared. "Not nearly as...open as you think. There's a lot that..." He suddenly fell silent, feeling like he had revealed too much.

Wilson regarded him with a slight frown. "Was there something else?"

House shook his head and rose from the couch. "Nope. You free...tonight?"

"Nothing I can't move around."

House nodded as he limped toward the office door. "I'll bring the beer. What...time?"

"Eight?"

"Okay." House turned his head slightly, glancing at Wilson. "See you...later."

"Bye, House." The office door closed as the words left Wilson's mouth, and it took him a moment to process what had just transpired between them. The ground had shifted again, but it still felt to Wilson that there was a good deal left unsaid. Maybe House would reveal more later on, but it seemed unlikely.

Wilson blew out a relieved sigh as he returned to his desk and his paperwork, picking up the phone as he did so. He dialed Michaels' extension, waiting for her to pick up.

"Neurology, this is Doctor Michaels."

"Lillian? It's James."

A warm smile spread across Michaels' face at the sound of his voice. "Well, hello again. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"I...need to cancel tonight." Wilson winced, waiting for the angry reaction he was used to in these situations.

"Is everything okay?" Michaels was genuinely concerned.

"Yes, but..." Wilson took a short breath before continuing. "House and I sort of...made up, I guess. He wants to get together."

"Well...okay. But just this once." A teasing tone crept into Michaels' voice. "Just so he understands that he can't go breaking up all our dates." She paused briefly. "And I'm glad you two talked."

Wilson chuckled. "To be honest, I did most of the talking. But he started it. I don't know, it's odd." He fiddled with the pen in his hand. "Fifteen years as friends and we've never really..._talked_. It's just not what we do."

Michaels smiled to herself on the other end of the line. "Maybe it's time for that to change. I've got an appointment waiting for me. We'll figure out another time to go out, okay?"

"Okay." Wilson nodded. "And...thanks. You know, for understanding."

"Of course." Michaels was a little surprised. "He's your friend. If he needs you, you owe it to both of you to be there. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Wilson was pleasantly surprised by Michaels' reaction to their broken date. Then again, his wives hadn't minded the first time Wilson chose House over them. It was the third, the tenth, the hundredth time when they started getting angry. He knew he would have to set some sort of limits...

He cut himself off in the middle of the thought. Maybe House would start setting his own limits now that he had Anthony in his life. Things could change in a very positive way for both of them, if both House and he let them. Wilson decided to simply go along and see how things turned out. Right now, that seemed like as good a plan as any.

# # #

House pulled out his phone almost as soon as he left Wilson's office, finding Anthony's number in his contacts and pushing the buttons with a shaking hand.

On the other end, Anthony's phone started singing its familiar ringtone. He quickly flipped it open to answer. "Make it quick, hon. I've got a client in five minutes."

"Wilson and I sort of...made up." House spoke as quickly as he could. "I'm going over...there tonight."

"That's fantastic!" Anthony's face lit in a full grin, much to his office manager's amusement. "Come on over afterwards if you want, okay?"

House snorted at Anthony's words. "When _don't_ I...want to?"

"Point taken." Anthony laughed in response. "Okay, I'll see you later. Love you."

"You too. Bye." House snapped his phone closed and shoved it in his pocket. He sighed with relief as he made his way back to his office. Perhaps he hadn't fucked things up with Wilson as badly as he had feared.

Foreman was waiting for him in his office with an update on their patient, and House was soon distracted by the patient's ever-growing list of symptoms. After much discussion between House and the team, Taub and Thirteen left to run tests. House limped heavily back into his office and settled into his Eames chair, Foreman not far behind him.

"Everything okay?" Foreman regarded the older doctor with an arched eyebrow.

"Fine." House settled back into the chair and closed his eyes. "Unless you have...something important...leave me alone."

Foreman's mouth twitched slightly in a small smile. "I can get you into the CT late this afternoon if you're interested."

House's mouth curved upward, but his eyes remained closed. "Sure, let's examine...my head...some more. Like I haven't had...enough of that...lately."

Foreman snorted and shook his head. "There's an opening at 4:30. I'll meet you there."

He turned and started to leave the office when House's sharp voice called him back. "Foreman?"

"Yeah, House?"

House's eyes were open, shifting around the room, focusing on anything but the other man in the room. "You're...okay. Thanks for looking...out for me."

"Sure." Foreman shrugged.

"I don't mean just...the department, the cases." House shifted so that he was sitting up, his forearms on his knees, his eyes finally focused on the neurologist. "I mean...you know, the other...thing."

Foreman looked at House with an unreadable expression, a slight twitch around his mouth the only indication of any emotion. "Most of the time I've worked for you, you've been a world class ass. Doesn't mean I want anything bad to happen to you, and if I can help you out..." He shrugged again. "I will."

House slowly nodded. He had suspected that Foreman was more or less in his corner, but it was good to have confirmation. "Good to...know."

Foreman nodded in return and left the office, turning over the conversation in his mind. He didn't quite know what to do with this newly open House, although he suspected that House would deny the conversation ever happened if he were asked.

That was fine with Foreman. He wasn't sure anyone else would believe the story anyway. Just as well that they kept it between themselves.

# # #

Late that afternoon, as promised, House found himself with his head stuck inside the ridiculously small space that comprised the CT scanner. He hated these things, but if it could help answer some questions about his brain, then...he supposed he would deal with the closed-in feeling for a while.

"Almost done, House." Foreman's voice carried into the scanner. "Just a few more slices."

House closed his eyes, waiting for the thing to be over. Finally he could feel a rush of cool air as the bed moved, pulling him out of the scanner. He quickly jumped off the bed and limped into the room that housed the computer terminal. Foreman already had the slices up on the screen and was examining them closely as House eased himself into the chair next to him.

Foreman turned the screen toward House so that the older man could take a closer look. House tilted his head and squinted slightly in an attempt to study the images.

The neurologist double-clicked on one of the images to expand it, and House could see it much clearer. "Looks like your brain is healing itself. Hard to say how long it will take, but it does look like the damage won't be permanent." He turned to House. "Speech therapy might help speed things along."

House rolled his eyes. "I'm in enough...therapy. Thanks anyway." He pushed himself out of the chair and limped heavily out of the room, leaving Foreman alone.

As House made his way back to his office, a million thoughts ran through his mind. It was a good thing that Foreman was able to interpret the results of the CT scan. Without his glasses, House couldn't see a damn thing on the screen. His glasses had broken at some point during his illness, and he had put off replacing them. It was looking more and more like House might need them for more than reading. Everything was getting fuzzy these days.

House sighed to himself as he pushed through the door of his office. This getting older thing sucked ass, plain and simple.

Thirteen was seated at the conference room table, and she lifted her head when she heard House enter. When it was clear he wasn't going to enter the conference room, she rose from the chair and poked her head into the office.

"Your guy was up here looking for you."

House shot her a look. "And...?"

"He just said for you to call him when you got a chance." Thirteen tilted her head at House, a slight smile on her face.

House rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. "What?!"

"Oh, nothing." Thirteen retreated into the conference room, keeping her thoughts to herself. When Anthony had appeared outside House's office, Thirteen hadn't recognized him. It was only when he introduced himself that things clicked for her.

House shook his head as he pulled out his phone to call Anthony. Thirteen was behaving even stranger than usual, but he shoved the thought aside when he heard the younger man pick up.

"Hey, you."

"Hey yourself." House answered. "Heard you were...looking for me."

"Oh, no big." Anthony replied. "Just wanted to let you know that I might not be home if you show up. Simon wants to drag me out to the club tonight."

House snorted and rolled his eyes. "Have fun."

"We'll see." Anthony chuckled. "Talk to you when I see you."

"Bye." House snapped his phone closed, staring at the object in his hand. He was oddly troubled by the idea of Anthony going out with Simon. The last time that had happened, it hadn't ended so well.

House shook his head and started packing up for the night, trying to push his doubts aside. That was then, this was now, and House had little reason to believe that Anthony would do anything too foolish. Besides, House had other things to look forward to.

He poked his head inside the conference room, alerting Thirteen to his leaving before gathering up his jacket, helmet, cane, and backpack. By his estimation, he had plenty of time for a longer ride before he went over to Wilson's. It was a cool but clear evening, and House wanted to take advantage of what few times like this that were left before he had to put the bike away for the winter. It was one of the few opportunities he had anymore for private time, and he found that he missed his alone time, just a little. Not that he didn't appreciate the time spent with either Anthony or Wilson, but still.

As he flew through the streets of Princeton, House reflected on the changes that had happened so quickly, and the difficulties that those changes had brought. He still wasn't sure how everything would shake out between himself and Wilson, but he supposed once again, he would cross that bridge when he got to it. At least they were talking again. Maybe, just maybe, he and Wilson could make things better than they were.

It was a thought that stuck with him as he stopped at a convenience store for beer and strapped it to the rear seat of his bike and headed for Wilson's. Some unknown emotion came over him as he pulled up in front of Wilson's building and limped up the steps to his door.

He tapped on the door with his cane, his heart pounding a little in his chest. The door flew open, revealing Wilson, now dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Come on in." Wilson gestured. "You _did_ bring the beer, right?"

House nodded and entered, setting the beer and his backpack aside. Wilson regarded him with a concerned expression. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." House answered a little sharper than he intended, carefully studying Wilson. Finally he closed the distance between himself and Wilson, awkwardly grabbing the younger man in a hug that nearly cut off Wilson's air supply.

Wilson didn't know how to react to House's uncharacteristic show of affection. Slowly he returned the hug, lightly patting House's back. "What's going on?"

House let out a ragged sigh, fighting the impulse to pull back. If he didn't get this out now, chances were good he never would. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For...not giving up...on me."

"House..." Wilson kept his hold on House, cherishing this moment, knowing it might never happen again. "I never gave up on you. I left because of me, not because of you."

House pulled back, looking vaguely uncomfortable, the emotion in his eyes obvious. "I know I'm...not so easy to...be around. I don't want...to be...that guy anymore."

As House spoke, Wilson realized he was seeing House completely unguarded for the first time. He didn't want to do anything to shut him down, not sure when he would ever again have the opportunity. "You don't have to be. You can be...whoever you want. This is your do-over." He kept his hand on House's shoulder. "Seems like we could both use a do-over."

House twisted his mouth, nodding furiously. His nerves were jangled from the sudden overwhelming emotion that had coursed through him, leaving him drained. "Think I need...a beer."

Wilson chuckled as he picked up the six pack and started toward the kitchen, handing one of the beers to House. He could use one himself. "I'll get food ordered. Chinese work for you?"

"Yep." House toed off his shoes and settled in on the couch. Suddenly he was starting to feel better about things between himself and Wilson. Wilson hadn't rejected him as he feared he would, and it seemed they were going to settle into something like their old routine. It was comforting.

Wilson called in their food order and joined House on the couch. "You okay?"

House actually smiled, a full smile that Wilson couldn't remember seeing before. "Couldn't be better." For once, it was the truth.

# # #

**It's that time again. Push the little green button and tell me what you think. :)**


	44. Chapter 44

**You know how this goes. Only the O/Cs belong to me. Everyone else belongs to Fox.**

# # #

Anthony was just finishing getting dressed when he heard the familiar knock at his door. "Come on in, Simon!" He hollered from the hallway as he buttoned the cuffs on his white button down shirt.

Simon floated in, already in full on Miss Sondra mode. She clucked her tongue at Anthony's simple outfit of a white button down shirt, black jeans, and black shoes. "Not your best look, honey."

"I'm not _trying_ to attract anyone, remember?" Anthony gently reminded her, an edge creeping into his voice. "_You're_ the one who suggested this, not me."

"And you know you're going to have a good time, so what's the problem?" Miss Sondra clicked down the hallway to check her make up in the bathroom mirror. "A couple of drinks, some dancing...just a good old time, that's all." She glanced in the mirror at Anthony's reflection as he leaned against the doorframe. "I know you're all in love and everything, but it won't kill you to go out once in a while."

"It still feels weird, though." Anthony wore a doubtful expression as he watched Miss Sondra reapply her lipstick.

"Think of it as a girls' night out, if that helps you." Miss Sondra answered, dropping the lipstick in her clutch and snapping it closed. "Ready?"

"I guess." Anthony pushed himself off the doorframe and followed Miss Sondra down the hallway, picking up his jacket along the way as they headed out the door. Maybe she was right. Maybe it would be a good night. House was hanging out with his friend, so what difference did it make if Anthony hung out with his?

He still had lingering doubts as Miss Sondra pulled into the crowded parking lot and found a parking space. The place was packed, and it wasn't until they approached the door that they found out why.

"Oh my God." Miss Sondra groaned. "How the hell did I forget that it was 18-and-over night?" She turned to Anthony. "We don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"What the hell?" Anthony shrugged. "We're already here. Might as well hang out and watch the kids make fools of themselves."

"Amen to that, honey." Miss Sondra laughed as she paid her cover charge and entered the club, Anthony not far behind.

As indicated by the full parking lot, the party was in full swing as the two friends made their way to the bar, Miss Sondra cutting a wide swath as she sashayed through the room.

"Long time no see, boys." Steve, the bartender, greeted both of them with a wide smile. "What'll you have?"

"Vodka and cranberry for me and whatever the young man here wants." Miss Sondra nudged Anthony. "What do you want, hon?"

"Sam Adams." Anthony answered distractedly, turning to lean against the bar. The music, the thumping beat, and the crowd all brought back memories of another time and another place. He and Simon frequented a similar club back in the day, spending their twenties and a good part of their thirties dancing the night away and challenging each other to see who could collect the most phone numbers by the end of the night. Anthony could recall a few occasions when they would have to compare numbers the next day, after one or both of them had left the club with one they couldn't be bothered to wait long enough to get a phone number from.

Anthony shuddered a little at the chances he and Simon had taken during a life that Anthony had really left behind only recently. No, tonight would definitely be a night to sit on the sidelines and observe. Maybe, if Simon...Miss Sondra could convince him, he might be up for busting a few moves on the dance floor.

"I'll have what he's having." Anthony turned at the voice that suddenly appeared next to him. It belonged to a young blond, casually leaning forward on the bar, who grinned easily at Anthony. "Hey."

Anthony nodded civilly and took a long drink of his beer. The young blond arched an eyebrow, watching with something akin to fascination. He let out a low whistle and moved closer to Anthony. "If that's how you handle a beer...I'd like to see how you handle...certain body parts."

Anthony nearly choked on his beer, chuckling as he wiped his mouth. "Does that line ever work on anyone?"

The young man shrugged, a slight smile highlighting his fine features. "More often than you'd think." He held out his hand. "Name's Mark."

"Tony." Anthony shook Mark's hand and returned to his people watching. He could feel the young man's eyes bore into him. This must have been how House felt when Anthony first hit on him...spoke to him in that bar. He rolled his eyes and turned toward him. "Is there something you want?"

Mark laughed, a rich, deep sound. "You, of course. Why else would I be talking to you?"

Anthony looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Surely there is someone your age in this place you could hit on. How old are you, anyway, twelve?"

"Twenty-two. And I'm not into kids." Mark looked Anthony up and down, his intention clear. "I like my men with a little...experience."

"I don't have any to give you. Sorry." Anthony drained his beer and signaled Steve for another one. He looked around for Miss Sondra, but she had wandered off to do her usual social butterfly thing, leaving him alone with Mark.

"Oh." Mark seemed baffled. "What the hell are you doing here, then?"

"My boyfriend's hanging out with his friend tonight, and I'm here with another friend." Anthony spotted Miss Sondra working her way through the crowd and back to the bar. "That's her now."

Mark nodded, leaning in impossibly close, and Anthony could catch a whiff of his slightly musky scent. "You didn't really answer my question. What the hell are you doing _here_?"

"A couple of drinks...maybe some dancing." Anthony was suddenly nervous. Being here was a mistake. He never should have come.

Mark smiled, lightly touching Anthony's shoulder. "What do you say to one dance? No harm in that, is there?" His fingers trailed down Anthony's arm, sending small shivers through him. "I'll bet you've got some killer moves in you."

Anthony finally placed his hand over Mark's, stilling it. "_One_ dance. Then you run along and find someone your own age to play with, got it?"

Mark's eyes lit up as he squeezed Anthony's arm. "You have a deal. Come on."

He all but dragged Anthony out to the dance floor, passing Miss Sondra along the way. She threw Anthony a worried expression, but he shook his head, mouthing "Just one dance."

Miss Sondra crinkled her brow. That 'just one dance' mess was how Anthony got the hell beat out of him last time they were out. He hoped like hell his friend knew what he was doing.

# # #

Anthony allowed Mark to drag him out to the dance floor just as a slower song started. A bit of fear clutched at him as Mark pulled him in slightly. This was not the one dance he had in mind.

"I think you tricked me, boy." Anthony glared down at the young man.

"I swear that I didn't." Mark smiled, a teasing look in his eyes. "But it does seem to be working to my advantage."

Anthony's body was reacting to the moves Mark was putting on him, despite his attempt to disengage his mind. The younger man laughed softly. "You don't _act _like an older guy, that's for damn sure. How old are you?"

"Forty-three."

Mark's eyes went wide with a mixture of surprise and delight. "I never would have guessed." He pressed his body against Anthony, drawing him down to whisper in his ear. "You must be _loaded_ with experience. I'd be only too happy to learn what you've got to teach me."

Anthony snorted and shook his head. "You've got a lot to learn."

"So teach me." Mark's voice dropped to a more seductive tone, his lips coming dangerously close to Anthony's. He lifted his soft eyes to meet Anthony's, waiting for his reaction.

The song ended, and Anthony quickly pulled away to make his way back to the bar. He was shaking by the time he returned, taking the beer Miss Sondra held out to him.

He gratefully took the beer and drained most of it in one shot, causing Miss Sondra to raise her eyebrows. "Something happened out there."

"Damn near did." Anthony's voice was tense as he slammed the bottle to the bar. "Steve! One more."

"What the hell was that about?" Mark's voice rang sharply behind Anthony. "I know you said one dance, but damn. You could have at least said 'see ya' or something."

Anthony whipped around to face the young man, placing a hand on his cheek. "I've got someone. I only gave you one dance so you'd get off my back."

"That's not what it felt like to me." Mark covered Anthony's hand with his own. "Pretty sure we could have danced all night."

Anthony shook his head, pulling his hand out from under Mark's. "You don't understand."

Miss Sondra arched an eyebrow. "I'll be...around. Holler at me when you get this worked out."

Anthony nodded, acknowledging her words and slowly collecting himself. Finally he turned back to Mark with a slightly sad look, shaking his head. "Let's go outside. It's a little quieter there."

Mark followed Anthony outside, and Anthony immediately began pacing in the cool evening air. The younger man pulled out a cigarette and lit up, watching Anthony. To Mark, he moved like a caged tiger, and he could see the tension in his movements.

Finally Anthony paused, looking at the young man as he blew a plume of sweet-smelling smoke into the air. "I've got someone, someone I care for very much." He took a deep breath before continuing. "You say 'just one dance', but it won't end there if I don't stop you now. One dance will lead to another, and...that will end in me doing something I'll regret." He shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets, mostly talking to himself. "Who's to say I haven't already?"

Mark played with the cigarette in his hand, taking one last puff before tossing it to the ground and stomping it out. He closed the distance between himself and Anthony, placing his hands on Anthony's upper arms. He lightly stroked them, feeling the muscle underneath, sighing regretfully. "You are...an incredibly sexy man. Probably one of the hottest guys in there tonight. Got a phone on you?"

"Oh, no you don't." Anthony scolded him like one would scold a child. "You're not putting your number in my phone."

"Damn." Mark chuckled. "Guess you're too smart for me."

"I've got 'experience', remember?"

Mark nodded, pulling a pen and a notepad out of his shirt pocket. He scribbled something on the pad. "If things ever go south with that man of yours...keep me in mind, won't you?" Mark ripped the paper off the pad, folding it up and tucking it in the pocket of Anthony's shirt, briefly kissing his cheek as he did so. "Thanks for the dance."

"Sure." Anthony watched as Mark turned and headed back into the club, the loud music spilling out as he opened the door. He paced outside for what seemed like ages, trying to calm his jangled nerves.

God, the attention from the young man _had_ been flattering. It was flattering as hell, and Anthony was furious at himself for reacting the way he did. Only the nagging voice that reminded him that he was with House kept him from following through on any impulse his body had in mind. Anthony found himself wondering if that was going to be a good enough explanation for House. He couldn't see the point of keeping this from him. The man could smell a lie a mile away.

He sighed heavily and returned to the club. If ever there was a sign that he was finally too old for this, this was it. Anthony made his way out to the dance floor, finding Miss Sondra and losing himself in the thumping beat and the laughter of his longtime friend, pushing the encounter with Mark out of his mind. Maybe if he danced hard enough, he could forget what an idiot he had nearly been. Or already was. Whatever.

# # #

Miss Sondra pulled up in front of Anthony's building, directly behind House's bike. "Oh, look who's here waiting for you..."

Anthony's eyes went wide. He had hoped House would show up later, much later. "I still don't know how the hell I'm going to tell him about this."

Miss Sondra twisted her mouth in thought. "And I suppose you just have to tell him."

"The man's a human lie detector. It's a little freaky." Anthony snapped in response. "Of course I have to tell him."

"Calm down, Tony." Miss Sondra reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "You didn't cheat on him."

"Close enough." Anthony spoke softly, looking down at his lap. "What the hell was I thinking?" He took a deep, shaky breath. "I've fought like hell to earn his trust, and this is how I repay that trust? He won't ever trust me again. I knew this was a bad idea from the minute you mentioned it."

Miss Sondra arched an eyebrow. "I know you are _not_ trying to blame me for your foolishness. You knew damn well what you were doing."

Anthony slumped down in the seat. "Not exactly making me feel better here."

"Not trying to." Miss Sondra answered sharply. "If you feel that badly about it, go handle it."

Anthony nodded firmly, knowing it was the only way. "Wish me luck."

Miss Sondra rolled her eyes. "Stop being such a drama queen. Just go handle things. If it all goes to hell, call me."

Anthony climbed out of the car, still feeling the buzz from the beer he had consumed over the course of the evening. After waving off Miss Sondra, he took a deep breath and made his way to the apartment.

House had left one living room light on, and Anthony could hear the shower running and House's rumbling baritone. Any other night and he wouldn't have hesitated to try to join him. Any other night he hadn't spent the evening allowing himself to be seduced by some sweet young thing.

Anthony paced around the living room, waiting for House to finish, still not sure how he was going to tell him. Momentarily the bathroom door opened, and House emerged, the steam rising off his skin and that familiar woodsy scent following him into the living room.

He looked surprised to see Anthony. "Where were you...hiding?"

"I just got home."

House studied Anthony carefully. He could tell the younger man was hiding something. "Did you have...a good time?"

"Mostly." Anthony slowly paced around the living room, finally stopping and taking a deep breath. "Some kid hit on me."

"No surprise...there." House tilted his head, trying to get a read on the younger man. "Sounds like there's a...little more to...the story."

"I...let him." Anthony's heart was pounding in his chest. "I let him dance with me, I let him put his hands on me...he gave me his phone number." The words were coming in a rush, and Anthony was powerless to stop them. "I would have let him do...more, if it weren't for you."

House stood like a stone, letting Anthony's words sink in. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was wrong, so wrong. This couldn't be the same man who had professed his love over and over, the same man who had held him close in the aftermath of his terrifying nightmare, the same man who was spending damn near every waking moment with him since they'd met.

"You might as...well have." House snarled. "You let him do...everything else."

Anthony closed his eyes. He had feared that this would be House's reaction. Better to have it out in the open than to try to cover it up, but now there was a huge knot where his stomach should have been. "I shouldn't have even let it go as far as a dance, I realize that."

"No shit, really?" The hurt was evident in House's voice. "Goddamnit, Tony, I _trusted_ you."

"Don't you think I know that?!" Anthony practically shouted at House.

House stared at Anthony for a long moment before shaking his head and turning away. He returned in his street clothes, stuffing his sleep pants in his backpack. Anthony's heart leapt into his throat as he watched the older man dig through for the travel mug, setting it on the coffee table.

He shoved his feet into his shoes, putting on his jacket and digging for his keys. House paused briefly, as if he were forgetting something. He worked Anthony's key off his key chain and limped back over to the coffee table to set it next to the travel mug.

"I think that's...everything." House lifted his eyes to meet Anthony's. "Just so you know...I do love you. I just can't tolerate..._that_."

Anthony nodded furiously, even as his heart broke. "I love you too."

House fixed him with a hard glare, finally snorting and shaking his head before closing the apartment door behind him.

It was only then that the enormity of the moment hit Anthony. House was gone, and he had made it clear that he wasn't coming back. Anthony pulled out his phone with a shaking hand, finding the number he was looking for.

"Simon?" He asked with a cracking voice. "It's over."

# # #

House flew through the streets of Princeton back to his apartment, not noticing his speed, and not caring. He was so angry and hurt he could barely think straight, and his watering eyes weren't helping matters either.

He pulled up in front of his building, his hands shaking as he unlocked the doors. Anthony still had keys to the place. _Fuck._ He didn't even think to ask for them back when he had returned Anthony's key. All he had wanted to do was get the hell out of there, away from the cheating man-slut, away from a place that already held too many memories for him.

This place wasn't much better. Everywhere he turned, there was another memory of Anthony. The couch where they had lounged on each other, sharing quiet moments and conversation, watching movies and...other activities. God, House would miss that, all of it.

The thought that Anthony would never set foot in this place again filled House with a deep sadness. And it was all because he couldn't keep his hands off some young guy in some stupid dance club. Anthony was probably calling him right now to finish what they had started. Good for him. They deserved each other.

House sat down at his piano, another flood of memories washing over him. He started to play some tune at random, pushing all thoughts of Anthony out of his head. It was over. Better to accept that fact and move on, wherever that was. Surely the world was crawling with either men or women that would love to spend time with an old, crippled, recovering drug addict, recovering psychotic...

Oh yeah, he was some prize. No wonder Anthony had so easily succumbed to someone else's charms. He gave up on playing, closing the lid over the keys and limping into the kitchen for a glass and his bottle of bourbon, returning to the living room to sit on the couch.

He poured his first glass, examining the liquid before easily draining it, refilling the glass immediately. Before long he gave up all pretense, leaning back into the couch, drinking directly from the bottle.

Finally the bourbon started to do its job, and House finally felt numb as he set down the bottle and lay down on the couch. It was a hell of a lot better than feeling the pain of his loss, at least, that was his story right now. He couldn't understand why his eyes wouldn't stop watering. He shouldn't be feeling a damn thing, and yet...

House let the tears fall, mourning the loss of something that had only begun to take root and grow. The pain ran deep, and there wasn't enough bourbon in the world to numb it. He should have known better than to even try.

His stomach roiled, and he threw up next to the couch, letting his head hang over the side. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so goddamned miserable. Never again. He would never allow himself to get so attached to another person. It just wasn't worth it. It was the last thought he remembered before either passing out or falling asleep. He couldn't tell which. It didn't really matter anyway.

# # #

**You know what to do. Read and review.**


	45. Chapter 45

**You all know how this works by now. I don't own them, Fox does, et cetera, et cetera.**

# # #

House awakened to the smell of brewing coffee and a pounding head. The bitter taste in his mouth nearly made him vomit again, and he shoved himself to a sitting position. Better to not let whoever it was see him looking so goddamn pathetic, even if that's how he felt right now.

Anthony strode quietly out of the kitchen, freezing when he saw House. The man looked awful, hunched over with red-rimmed eyes and dried mucus and vomit on his face. It nearly killed Anthony to see the suffering he had caused House.

House glared at him with as much dignity as he could muster. "What the hell are you...doing here?"

"I was going to stop by and drop off your keys and pick up whatever stuff I had left here." Anthony answered, a nervous edge creeping into his voice. "When I saw you laying there...I couldn't just leave you."

"Clearly I'm...still alive." House answered harshly, even as he was oddly touched by Anthony's actions. "You can leave...now."

"Are you sure?" Anthony couldn't keep the crack out of his voice.

House pushed himself to his feet, weaving as he did so, closing his eyes in a feeble attempt to block out the emotion in Anthony's voice.

Anthony automatically rushed to House's side to steady him, and his offer of assistance was met with a harsh glare. "Get off me." House growled. He turned and stumbled toward the bathroom, pausing near the entrance to the hallway. "I'm going to...take a shower. You'd better be gone...when I get out."

"If that's what you want, then that's what I'll do." Anthony's voice was filled with sadness. "Is that what you really want?"

House leaned against the frame of the entrance, fighting with his own emotions as well as fighting against Anthony's. If the younger man had truly given a damn, he wouldn't have allowed that kid to put his hands all over him. "I...don't know. I thought I did."

A spark of hope flared up in Anthony, and he slowly approached House, gingerly wrapping his arms around the older man's waist and laying his head against his back, listening to his ragged breathing. House stiffened, but otherwise didn't react.

The older man placed one hand on top of the ones that spread out along his stomach. He pulled Anthony's hands off of him and continued toward the bathroom.

He slammed the bathroom door, running the water as hot as he could stand it before stepping in and letting the water run over his head. House didn't know what felt worse, his mind or his body.

Anthony was the last person he expected to see today. If not for him, he might not have woken up at all today. It was a sobering thought. The man might have been a cheating slut, but at least he hadn't just dropped the keys and run out.

It occurred to House that Anthony wasn't really that kind of man. Whatever his other faults might be, House could never accuse the younger man of not caring. He cleaned up and leaned against the wall of the shower, his tears starting anew.

Outside the bathroom, Anthony slowly made his way through the apartment, gathering up all the odds and ends that had migrated over here in their painfully brief time together. He ran across the black sweatshirt, the very one Anthony had teased House about. Anthony brought it to his nose, taking in House's distinct scent that had seeped into it.

A lump rose up in Anthony's throat, and the tears spilled over before he could even think about stopping them, and he sank down on the bed, clutching the sweatshirt to his chest, the sobs wracking his body.

God, he couldn't believe how deeply this _hurt_. The idea of never being here again, House's warm body wrapped around him, all the jokes and silliness and deep conversations that they had shared...it left him with a horrible hollow feeling, one that he was quite sure couldn't be filled again.

"Thought I told you...to be gone." House's soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"I was just leaving." Anthony halfheartedly pulled himself together and started to leave, but House blocked him. The older man lightly stroked his cheek with a pensive sigh, and Anthony could feel the tears welling up again.

Suddenly House leaned down and captured Anthony's lips in a soft kiss, tender and tentative at first, deepening it as his hand moved from Anthony's cheek to the back of his neck. His other hand drifted to the younger man's waist, pulling him in close.

Anthony took in everything House was giving, wrapping his arms around the older man's waist, gently guiding him to the bed. They landed with a soft thump, and House started kissing him all over, his hands moving under his shirt, and Anthony couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

House made his way back up to press his lips to Anthony's, and he lay beside Anthony on the bed, stroking his hair and staring at his face. This would be their last time, House was sure of that, and he wanted to remember every moment.

Anthony regarded him with a mixture of desire and sadness, smoothing one hand along House's body. "Why are you doing this?"

House stared back at him with little expression. "You've never had...a goodbye fuck?"

"Is that what this is?" Anthony's voice cracked, and House could see a tear trickle out of the corner of his eye.

House nodded firmly, his own emotion threatening to overwhelm him again. "Yeah...I think so."

Anthony quickly rolled House over to his back, furiously kissing him along his jaw and neck, pressing his body fully against House. "I don't want this to be goodbye."

House squirmed under the feel of Anthony's lips trailing over his skin. "Should have thought...of that...before."

"I know." Anthony's voice was soft and ragged as he pressed his lips to House's, committing the feel to memory. This probably wasn't going to happen again if House had anything to say about it. "I'm so, so sorry." His voice broke as he worked his way down House's body, leaving a trail down his chest and stomach, quickly undoing the older man's pants and shoving them off his body.

House responded with a groan and a soft sigh as Anthony gently took him into his mouth, rolling his tongue over him as he smoothed his hands over House's thighs, feeling them flex under his touch. If this was the end, Anthony was going to make damn sure it was memorable for both of them.

House clutched at the back of Anthony's head, running his hand through his soft hair, arching upward as Anthony brought him ever closer to that edge, backing off just a little to keep him from going over before starting in again.

Finally House had all he could take, and he went over, bucking upward into Anthony's mouth, shaking as he came down. Anthony followed his trail upward until he reached House's mouth, pressing their lips together for a long, sweet kiss. House quickly shoved Anthony's shirt off him, followed by his jeans. He left House just long enough to find a condom and the bottle of lube from the bedside table, quickly returning to capture House's lips in one more long kiss.

House studied the younger man carefully, watching for...he wasn't sure what. Some sign of remorse, sadness, something that reflected his own feelings. He smoothed his hands over Anthony's body, committing each cell of his skin to memory as the younger man gently prepared to enter him.

House let out an involuntary moan as Anthony gently eased in, finding that easy, almost soothing rhythm as he rocked against House, his hands smoothing over the older man's chest. Anthony thought he could see something trickling out of the corner of House's eyes, and he heard the hitch in House's throat as he pumped furiously into House, their shared pain finally surfacing as Anthony went over and collapsed against House's chest.

House wrapped his arms around the younger man, listening to the ragged sobs that emerged from him, matching his own. Whoever came up with the idea of goodbye sex was an idiot. If anything, House felt worse, not better. This wasn't the last memory he wanted of Anthony. He didn't want a last memory of the younger man at all, but...there it was. Last night had changed everything between them, the tenuous trust House had allowed Anthony snapped like a delicate thread.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." Anthony choked out from where he lay on House's chest. "I knew better...and I wish there was a way I could make it up to you."

"You can't." House roughly replied. "It's done, it's...over. There is no...fixing this."

Anthony placed a gentle kiss in the middle of House's chest and slowly left him, disposing of the condom and finding his clothes. House quietly observed his body as he dressed, the ache in his heart by far outstripping any ache in his body as the younger man approached him, bending over him for one more kiss. "I love you." He whispered sadly.

House merely nodded. "Have a good...life."

"Don't count on it." Anthony replied quietly as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

House held his breath as he waited for the apartment door to open and close. It was only then that he gave in to his grief and pain, rolling over to his side and clutching the pillow, letting the tears fall unchecked. He didn't know how he would handle what came next. He wasn't even sure what was supposed to come next. All he knew was that Anthony was gone, and there was a hole in his heart large enough to drive a semi through. A small part of him hoped like hell Anthony felt the same way. It would serve him right.

# # #

Foreman looked up from the journal article he was researching when he heard House's office door open. He was early, but he wasn't carrying the travel mug, and the older doctor looked like death warmed over. This was not going to be a good day.

He gave House a few minutes to get settled in before rising and entering his office. House's head snapped up at the movement.

"Something you...want?" House snapped.

"No, nothing." Foreman carefully studied the older man. He had taken off his sunglasses, revealing puffy, bloodshot eyes, and Foreman swore he could smell alcohol as he approached House's desk. He arched an eyebrow in concern. "Have you been drinking?"

"Not...this morning." House answered. "What I do off...the clock is my...business, not yours. Any more...stupid questions?"

Foreman knew there was more going on than House was telling, but he also knew when to back off. "No. I'll just be in the conference room if something comes up."

House nodded and took a long drink out of the paper coffee cup, making a face at the bitterness. "You could...put on some...decent coffee. That would be...useful."

Foreman merely shook his head as he headed back into the conference room. Honestly, he could do with some more coffee himself. Thirteen breezed in just as he was starting the coffeemaker.

"What's House doing here?" She asked, surprised.

"I don't know, but he's in bad shape." Foreman replied. "Better cut him a wide berth today."

Thirteen nodded. "I think I saw his guy down in the lobby. He was looking pretty rough himself." Her eyes went wide. "You don't think..."

"I think whatever is going on in House's personal life is none of our business." Foreman cut her off smoothly, handing her a cup of decaf and nodding toward the table. "Cameron sent up a couple of case files for us to check out. Might as well see if any of them pass the House Weirdness Test."

Thirteen frowned as she took the cup of coffee and started going over the files. Maybe House's personal life was none of their business, but if House was miserable, he was going to make his team's life miserable in return. That seemed like reason enough to butt in.

She found a file that she thought might just be interesting enough to engage the older doctor, and she rose from the table to enter his office.

"House?"

He quickly snapped his head up, brushing briefly at his eyes and wiping at his nose. "What?!"

Thirteen's brow wrinkled in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Allergies. No...big deal." House gestured for the file Thirteen held in her hand. "Hand it...over."

He glanced at the file, returning it with a glare. "Boring. Is this the...best you can do?"

"It was the best out of the bunch."

House rolled his eyes. "Don't bother me...until you...find something interesting." He shoved himself out of his chair and limped heavily toward the door to his balcony.

Thirteen watched him go, her heart going out to the older doctor. Something very big had gone down for House to be acting this way. She only hoped it was something that would blow over, for his sake as well as everyone else's.

House stepped out onto the balcony, cursing the soft sunlight that washed over him. It should be pouring rain, maybe even with some thunder and lightning to go along with it. At least then it would match his mood.

He turned when he heard Wilson's own balcony door open, and the younger doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Tony and I broke up." House surprised himself at his easy admission.

"What?!" Wilson's eyes went wide with shock. "When did this happen?"

"Last night...when he got...home." House dropped his head, thumping his cane on the concrete. "He...went to some club...some hot young...thing hit on...him." He closed his eyes, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You can probably...guess what happened next."

"He cheated on you?" Wilson was already swinging his legs over the wall that separated their balconies.

"Might as...well have." House's voice was as sad as Wilson had ever heard it. "He told me...they danced...and might have...been more." He lifted his head to look out over the balcony. "For all I know...it was more."

"Do you have reason to believe he would lie to you?" Wilson asked carefully. "He never has before."

House merely shrugged. "Everybody lies." He gripped his cane so tightly that Wilson could see the white of his knuckles, and the older man suddenly began shaking. "Goddammit."

Wilson closed the distance between them, placing a hand on House's shoulder. "Do you want to step into my office?"

House didn't respond at first. Finally he nodded furiously, quickly turning to the balcony wall and easily swinging himself over, nearly leaving Wilson in his dust. For someone who claimed to be a cripple, House was ridiculously fast.

Wilson followed the older doctor into his office, closing the balcony door behind him. House suddenly stopped, turning toward Wilson and wrapping his arms around the young oncologist, letting himself come undone.

"House..." Wilson automatically took the older man into his arms, not saying anything, just letting him fall apart.

"I miss him...already." House choked out, his ragged voice muffled as he leaned against Wilson's shoulder.

"Of course you do." Wilson answered in what he hoped was a soothing tone. "You let him in, and he hurt you. Your reaction is completely, utterly...normal."

House snorted, even as the tears continued to fall. "Who'd have...thought?" He released Wilson, halfheartedly wiping at his shoulder. "Hope you...have an extra shirt."

Wilson shrugged. "If not, I'll just wear my lab coat. No big deal."

House regarded Wilson with a somber expression. "I never thought...it could hurt so...much." He shook his head. "I'm never...falling for anyone...ever again."

Wilson simply placed a hand on House's shoulder. "I know you feel like that right now, but you won't always feel that way. But I think you know that."

House nodded, pulling Wilson to him for a long hug. The contact felt good, even if it was just from a friend. He didn't feel better about things, necessarily, but he didn't feel so alone. Maybe that was worth something.

A knock on Wilson's office door made House break away from him, and the older doctor disappeared through his balcony door. After he left, Wilson called out, "It's open."

Thirteen poked her head in, a concerned expression crossing her feline features. "Have you seen House? I think I finally found a case for us."

"Sorry." Wilson shrugged. "Haven't seen him."

Thirteen regarded Wilson suspiciously, but didn't say anything. "Well, if you see him..."

"I'll let him know you're looking for him." Wilson told her reassuringly, fixing the younger doctor with a warm smile.

The office door closed, and Wilson dropped into his office chair with a sigh, covering his face with his hands. He was at a loss as to how to handle things now. It was amazing how emotionally open House was with him now, but on some level, it was harder to deal with.

No matter, Wilson decided. Either way, House had made it clear that Wilson was needed. The least he could do was find a subtle way to look out for his oldest friend. Wilson would find a way. He owed it to House.

# # #

House spent the next couple of months throwing himself into his work, trying to push thoughts of Anthony out of his mind. Word had spread about his break-up with Anthony, and his team and other co-workers had been surprisingly sympathetic about the whole thing. It seemed that everyone was taking turns looking out for House, making sure he didn't spiral downward into despair and depression.

Frankly, House was uncomfortable with the attention. After all, he and Anthony had only been together for a month. It wasn't as if they had been married for years and then divorced. It was a good thing for a while, and then it was over. Suck it up and move on.

There was only one problem with that. House didn't feel like moving on. He had met a couple of people online, had gone out a couple of times, but he never felt the spark with them that he had with Anthony.

His office door opened, revealing Wilson. The young oncologist stepped into House's office with his hands in his pockets. "Free for lunch?"

House snorted as he pushed himself out of his office chair. "Always, now."

"Seriously?" Wilson raised his eyebrows. "What happened to...what was his name again?"

House rolled his eyes as he followed Wilson out of his office. "_Her_ name was Shelly." He shrugged with an indifferent expression. "Nice woman, I guess. Just...nothing there."

Wilson chuckled a little. "I get the feeling you aren't trying that hard."

"So what?" House sounded vaguely annoyed. "At least I'm not drowning in a pool of my own vomit. That's what I call progress."

"Good point." Wilson pulled something out of his jacket pocket as the two friends stepped onto the elevator. "Lillian's throwing a big Christmas party. She told me to give this to you, and yes, you are expected to show up and be social."

House twisted his mouth as he took the invitation, turning it over in his hand. "She still talk to Tony?"

Wilson sighed. "I have no idea who she invited. She was adamant that _you _show up. Apparently she didn't want you to be alone."

"I _like_ being alone." House responded. "I suppose you're going to this thing?"

"Of course."

House shook his head. "The things you do for love. Just promise me one thing."

"Sure."

"Leave that moose hat at home. I'm pretty sure Michaels won't find it nearly as amusing as you do."

"For the record, she thinks it's cute." Wilson answered defensively as they approached the cafeteria. "So I _will_ be wearing it. And it's a reindeer, not a moose."

"Moose on a Jew." House snorted as he ordered his usual dry Reuben and fries. He waved Wilson away as he drew out his own debit card. "This one's on me."

"Whoa." Wilson's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, Boy Wonder." House snapped. "I do pay from time to time. No need to make a federal case out of it."

"Fine." Wilson let the matter drop as he tucked into his own lunch. The two men settled into their usual routine of sharing hospital gossip and discussing their respective cases. House and his team had just solved a ridiculously complicated case, and House proudly regaled Wilson with the tale of how he had set a new record for the number of times he had burst into Cuddy's office to demand some outrageous treatment or test.

Wilson couldn't help but laugh at his friend. Ever since he had regained his status as department head, House had used it to full advantage, driving Cuddy to the brink of insanity with his demands. Oddly enough, one of those demands wasn't finding a way out of clinic duty.

Soon their lunch was over, and House rose to leave. "Gotta fly. Clinic duty awaits."

Wilson scrunched up his eyebrows. "You're actually doing clinic duty _willingly_?"

House shrugged. "My shrink suggested maybe doing some kind of 'giving back' would be good for me. Kind of like killing two birds with one stone, you know?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Gregory House?" Wilson shook his head as he took care of both his and House's trays. "I've got to go myself. Got a consult about a new pain study we're conducting for long term cancer patients."

"Have fun." House snorted. "Think I'd rather do clinic duty."

Wilson smiled a little to himself as he watched House limp away. Time had worked some sort of magic on the man. He wasn't sure that House would bounce back from his break-up as quickly as he did. House still hurt, Wilson knew, but it seemed manageable. Occasionally Wilson would still get that middle of the night phone call when things got too difficult for House to handle on his own, but those calls were becoming increasingly rare. It helped him to know that House was calling others too, not just him.

He was a little nervous about Michaels' upcoming Christmas party. Wilson was sure that House wouldn't attend if he knew Anthony would be there, and vice versa. The woman still held out hope that the two men could somehow kiss and make up, in a manner of speaking. Wilson had his doubts, but he had to admit, seeing House drift indifferently between his occasional dates sparked a small flame of hope in him, too. Mostly he just hoped the half-baked plan wouldn't blow up in Michaels' face.

# # #

**Now it's your turn. Read and review.**


	46. Chapter 46

**Yep, all update crazy today/tonight. Once again, I don't own the House characters, just the O/Cs.**

# # #

Anthony couldn't help but feel a little edgy as he stepped onto the elevator that would carry him to his consult with Wilson this afternoon. He was surprised the head of oncology had called him at all, considering the way things had ended between Anthony and House.

He leaned against the back of the elevator car, vaguely thinking about House. Actually, there was nothing vague about his thoughts at all. Anthony hadn't heard much about him since their break-up, and he had to admit, he did still wonder about him.

Anthony had called him several times over the last couple of months, always chickening out just before leaving the voice mail. If House wasn't handling things well, Anthony wasn't sure he wanted to know. He hated thinking he was responsible for any misery on House's part.

His heart still ached at the thought of the way he and House's brief relationship had ended. God, he missed the man every day. His sharpness, his wit, his sarcasm, his affection, his love. Anthony had been out here and there a few times since the break-up, but none of the men he met ever held his attention like House had. He was definitely a unique character, and he wasn't likely to meet another man like him anytime soon.

Simon had chewed his ass so thoroughly after House had ended things that Anthony was surprised he had an ass left. He had even quit speaking to Anthony for a while, appalled that he had thrown away what was just beginning to grow with House. As if Anthony needed the reminder. The quiet that greeted him every night and the empty bed that almost always waited for him were enough of a reminder for him.

The chime of the elevator interrupted his thoughts, and Anthony stepped off the elevator, almost automatically turning right instead of left. To the right was Diagnostics, to the left Oncology. Anthony had no business going to Diagnostics, not anymore.

He sighed heavily and made his way to Wilson's office, knocking on the door. He still wasn't sure how Wilson would greet him. Hopefully he would be professional, although Anthony couldn't imagine he wouldn't be, even if the man hated his guts. Anthony wouldn't blame him if he did. God only knew Anthony had spent the better part of two months kicking himself for his own foolishness.

"It's open!" Anthony heard the friendly tone of Wilson's voice as he took a deep breath and opened the door.

Wilson's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything. "Tony...this is Doctor Adams. She will be your primary contact on the study."

Introductions were made all around, and Anthony pulled out the file containing his outline for the pain study and the conclusions the oncology department hoped to draw from it. He would be meeting with Doctor Adams once a week and with both doctors once a month to discuss progress.

The meeting ended, and Doctor Adams rose to leave, nodding to both men as she did so. Anthony started to collect his paperwork, wanting to ask about House, but not wanting to stir up any drama, either.

Finally his curiosity and concern won out over his pride, and he took a deep breath. "How is he?"

Wilson lifted his head, puzzled at the question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean Greg." Anthony felt awkward and uncomfortable. "How's he doing?"

Wilson leaned back in his chair. "He's...okay, I guess. Still licking his wounds, I think, but...he's functional."

"Is he...seeing anyone?" Anthony regretted the question as soon as he asked it. Like it was really any of his business.

Wilson folded his arms over his chest, fixing Anthony with a glare. "I'm not here as your go-between. You want to know about House, his office is right down the hall. If you're quick, you might be able to catch him."

Anthony was taken aback by Wilson's uncharacteristically harsh tone, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. House was Wilson's best friend, and it was only natural that Wilson would stand up for him. "I'm not sure I should. If he's doing okay without me...maybe I should just leave him alone."

Wilson sighed heavily. It wasn't as if he was in any position to judge Anthony's behavior. Not that it made it right, by any means. "Do you really want my opinion?"

"Of course."

"I said he was okay, and he is." Wilson arched an eyebrow at Anthony. "I didn't say he was doing great."

Anthony fiddled with the strap on his messenger bag. "You don't think he's better off without me?"

"That's for him to decide." Wilson shrugged. "Like I said, he was in his office last time I checked."

Anthony nodded firmly, squaring his shoulders and heading toward the office door. He paused just before leaving, turning slightly to Wilson. "Thanks for not treating me like dirt. I would have understood if you had."

Wilson simply shrugged as he fiddled with his pen. "I've been where you are. If I had fought a little harder for forgiveness...who knows?" He leaned forward on the desk. "If you believe he's worth fighting for, then put yourself out there. What have you got to lose?"

Nothing. Anthony had absolutely nothing to lose. He threw open the office door and strode out into the hallway, not entirely confident in what he was doing. He had already screwed this up once. He didn't want to screw this up again, if House even gave him the opportunity.

Wilson watched Anthony go, feeling a little like he was sending Anthony into the lion's den. House might rip him a new one for this, or he might thank him. Of the two, the former seemed more likely. Still, House couldn't fault him for throwing the ball in his court. As far as he could tell, it was better that House make up his own mind about Anthony than for Wilson to play the go-between. House would definitely rip his head off if he told all of House's business. That was something Wilson didn't need.

# # #

Anthony made his way toward House's office, trying to shut out any prior memories of his time in this area. He was on a different mission today, and he didn't need anything to muddy the waters.

He stopped just outside the conference room, and he could hear House's voice ringing out above the others, not so patiently explaining his theory to the three doctors seated around the table.

"So go forth and take his blood." House's voice carried as the conference door opened and the other three doctors filed out. "I'd bet Taub's next paycheck that you find that infection."

Anthony's mouth involuntarily twitched in amusement at House's words. God, he had missed the sound of that voice. Whatever brain damage that had resulted from his illness must have healed, because he sounded much like his old self. Stronger, even, if that were possible.

House turned back to his whiteboard, scribbling symptoms and diseases Anthony wouldn't have even attempted to pronounce, grumbling about the idiots that comprised his team. He seemed to sense that something was off, and he turned around.

A barely perceptible shift in his facial expression told Anthony that House was definitely surprised by his presence. Anthony wasn't sure what to do from here. The older man frowned slightly, turning his back to Anthony and continuing to write on his whiteboard.

Clearly Anthony would have to make the first move. He blew out a long sigh and opened the door to the conference room.

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying, boy." House didn't look up from his whiteboard as Anthony walked in.

"Not trying to sell you anything." Anthony responded quietly. "I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd drop in."

House snorted, capping his marker and turning to face him, leaning slightly on his cane as he studied Anthony. "Try that line on one of the boys at the bar. I'm too old to fall for that bullshit."

"It's not a line." Anthony spoke fiercely. "You should know me better than that."

House thumped his cane on the floor, glancing away from Anthony's penetrating gaze. "I thought I knew you. You kind of proved me wrong."

Anthony didn't have a good answer for that one. House was right and Anthony knew it. "I'm sorry."

"I know. You've told me a million times." House flicked his eyes at Anthony, those brilliant blues that bored deep into his soul and still showed up in Anthony's dreams. "It doesn't change anything."

"No, no it doesn't." Anthony slowly paced around the small space just inside the conference room. He turned to leave the room. Clearly the older man didn't want anything to do with Anthony. He was disappointed but not surprised. As he left, he turned to speak over his shoulder. "I still miss you, you know."

House merely responded with a curt nod, and Anthony finally sighed heavily and left, his eyes downcast as he walked toward the elevators.

House ground his cane into the carpet, staring at the floor. "I miss you too, you goddamn idiot." He shifted his mind away from Anthony and refocused on his whiteboard, letting his mind work away at the puzzle that presented itself. This he could solve. Anthony was a puzzle he didn't know how to solve, or if he even wanted to solve it.

What the hell was he doing here, anyway? House knew from overhearing others that the pain relief study Anthony had been working on had wrapped up about a month ago, but he hadn't heard anything about him since then. Was this the consult Wilson had spoke of at lunch? And if so, why hadn't Wilson said anything?

House shook his head to clear it, refocusing his attention on his case. Anthony was old news, anyway. If he had really wanted to patch things up, House would have heard from him long before now. Besides, House had other things taking up his time and attention these days.

His chiming phone pulled him out of his thoughts, and he dug it out of his pocket to answer. "House."

"Hey, Greg, what's going on?" A deep male voice filled his ear.

"Working. You know, that thing I do between breaks." House leaned against the table and fiddled with his cane. "What's going on with you?"

"Same old, same old. You know. Work stuff. Lame." The other man laughed. "You busy tonight?"

"Don't know yet. Kind of depends on how my case goes. I'll keep you posted."

"Sounds good. Talk to you later."

"Bye." House snapped his phone closed, turning it over in his hands with a small smile. He had met Jake a couple of weeks before at some medical conference in New York. A infectious disease specialist by trade, they had hit it off during one of the endlessly boring lectures. A couple of drinks and a dinner later, they found out that they hit it off in the bedroom as well.

Jake had made it clear that he wasn't looking for anything serious, which worked for House right now. House knew he couldn't handle another intense relationship like he had with Anthony. As a young doctor, Jake worked impossible hours, so things between them were very much catch-as-catch-can. Tonight, if things went their way, looked like a catch.

House allowed himself a small grin as he shoved the phone back into his pocket. He wasn't going to forget Anthony anytime soon, but damned if he was going to wallow in misery over it either. Just because he missed the idiot didn't mean he had to go chasing after him. Besides, House already had someone chasing after him, after a fashion. It was flattering as hell, and he wasn't going to give _that_ up anytime soon, either.

Hanson started singing out of his phone, and he quickly dug it out to answer. "So, tell me I was right."

Taub rolled his eyes at the other end of the phone. "Yes, you were right. The infection was hiding right under our noses."

House refrained from one of his usual comments about Taub's nose. "Damn, hearing I'm right just never gets old. Patient starting to respond?"

"Yes, he is. We're running his first course of antibiotics right now. Hadley's going to observe him tonight."

"Nothing left to do but finish the charting then." House nodded. "See you when you get up here."

Taub and Foreman soon returned, and Taub finished off the chart, almost automatically handing it off to Foreman. "Ah, ah, short man. Did you forget who's in charge here?" House snatched the file out of the air before Foreman could take it. "You kids have a good night. I'm gone."

House signed off on the chart, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He had recently started wearing them full time, and his eyes still weren't quite used to the change in vision. The progressive lenses were driving him crazy. House almost would have preferred old-fashioned bifocals, but he figured he looked old enough with the glasses. No sense making things worse.

Anthony would have laughed gently at him, telling him he wasn't old at all, and House felt a little stab of something at the thought. He shook his head, flipping open his phone and finding Jake's number in his contacts. "Hey, give me a call when you're free. Things wrapped up early here. Talk to you later."

He tucked the phone back into his pocket, collecting his coat and backpack and finding his keys. The old beast had finally bitten the berry about three weeks prior, and after driving around in a rental for a few days, House had settled on a Nissan Altima. Fast, smooth, powerful, and clung to the road like a dream, not to mention the heated leather seats. _That_ was going to be a nice luxury to have in the winter.

His phone chimed again as he met Wilson at the elevator. "House."

"Hey, just got your message." Jake answered. "Still free tonight?"

"As free as I can be." House replied, glaring over at Wilson, who arched an eyebrow his way. "Where do you want to meet?"

Jake gave him an address for a downtown hotel, and House mentally filed it away. The hotel had a decent bar and grill attached to it, the perfect place for a private evening, with the added convenience of a room not far away. "Got it. Should be there before too long."

"Cool. I have a few things to wrap up here, then I should be on the road. See you in, say, an hour?"

"Sounds good. See you then." House snapped his phone closed as he and Wilson stepped on the elevator. "I know you've got something to say. Just say it and get it over with."

"I would if I knew what I was lecturing about." Wilson answered with a sigh. "Who was that?"

"That was Jake. Met him at that conference a couple weeks ago. We hit it off, and...here we are."

"Planning hotel hookups? That hardly sounds like you."

House shrugged. "He lives in Newark, works crazy hours like most young doctors, and we get together whenever he can get away. He's young and cute and doesn't want anything serious. Right now that's good enough for me."

"Is it?" Wilson was concerned.

"Yes." House rolled his eyes. "This isn't some stupid self-destructive thing. It's just a fling, and...I'm okay with that."

"Well, there you go, then." Wilson nodded as the two men stepped off the elevator and headed to the parking lot, a light snow falling on them. "Did I tell you I saw Tony today?"

"Funny you should mention that." House glared at Wilson as he unlocked his doors. "I saw him too. Talked to him, even."

"And?"

"And...it's still over." House told him firmly. "He didn't exactly have anything new to add."

"For what it's worth, I think you're making a big mistake here."

House rolled his eyes again. "Leave it to you to take the side of the cheating 'ho."

Wilson shook his head. "Have fun with your...friend."

"Thanks. I will." House climbed into his car and turned the key, thrilling to the sound of the smooth engine. Fun was all he was after these days. Fun meant no expectations. No expectations meant no disappointment. It sounded like a win-win to House.

# # #

House was nursing a bourbon in the hotel bar when he felt a set of hands cover his eyes. "Guess who?"

House chuckled at the deep voice, turning to face Jake. His cheeks were nearly as red as his hair from the cold, and he dusted the snow off his long coat before hanging it on the hook beside him, right over House's. House kind of liked the idea of his coat picking up the spicy scent that Jake often wore. Not that he would ever admit that to Jake.

Jake plopped down on the barstool, signaling the bartender for his drink order. The bartender set Jake's Jack and Coke in front of him, and he took a long, appreciative drink. "God, that's good stuff. You would not believe the day I had."

They chatted back and forth for a while, mostly about their respective jobs, and Jake seemed to take a keen interest in House's case.

"All that over a simple infection?" Jake's blue eyes went wide at House's story as they sat in the booth over dinner.

"Yep." House finished the last of his steak and pushed the plate aside. "It was hiding so deep that we almost missed it."

"Wow, that's amazing." Jake shook his head as he finished his meal and leaned on the table to look at House. "And you just do this kind of stuff every day?"

"Not every day." House answered. "Sometimes we go days between cases. My department only gets the ones no one else can crack." He had to grant himself a small smile at that. _My department._ House wasn't sure he would ever get to say that again. It had been a weight off his shoulders when the board approved that decision.

"So what do you do in the meantime?"

"Clinic duty." House rolled his eyes in amusement. "Plainsboro has a free clinic, and we all work a rotating schedule. I work there more than most. I've blown off a lot of hours over the years."

"I'm surprised your boss lets you get away with that."

"It was a trade off for the genius." House smirked. "Things are...a little different now. I don't mind it _most_ of the time."

"That's kind of cool, giving back to the community and all that." Jake reached out to touch House's hand. "You about ready to bail out of here?"

"Whenever you are."

Jake signaled to the waitress, casually tossing down his debit card. The waitress quickly returned with the receipt, and Jake signed it, leaving it on the table. He flashed a quick smile at House. Dinner with the older doctor had been good, but Jake was really looking forward to dessert. "All set."

House pushed himself out of the booth and followed the younger doctor to his room. He was wound up much tighter than usual tonight, and he knew it wasn't just the anticipation he felt. His mind kept running back to Anthony, a small pang of sadness hitting him at the image of the younger man walking away, looking oddly defeated.

He angrily pushed the thought away. It was too late now, anyway. Anthony had his chance, and he had screwed that up, so too bad for him. Right now House was too busy getting lost in the feel of this young doctor's rough hands and soft lips on him, pressing him against the hotel room door.

Jake made quick work of House's jacket and shirt, pushing them off his body and letting them fall to the floor. He fumbled briefly with House's belt buckle as House toed off his shoes, and Jake guided House to the bed, tugging his jeans off of him and tossing them to the floor, smoothing his hands over House's muscular legs. "Fucking gorgeous."

House snorted at the idea, but what the hell. It was flattering, and one hell of a turn-on to watch Jake's eyes turn dark with lust as he reached up to remove House's glasses, gently setting them on the bedside table before returning to straddle House.

House reached up to unbutton Jake's shirt, opening it to expose a muscular chest with a smattering of the same bright red hair that covered the younger man's head. Jake took off his shirt the rest of the way as House made quick work of Jake's dress pants. The other man shifted enough to remove them and toss them aside before pressing a line of kisses starting at the base of House's throat and ending near the waist of his boxers. Jake's hands followed, stripping him as his lips continued their journey, ending with taking House into his mouth, evoking a soft groan from the older man.

Jake sped up the action, bringing House right to the edge before backing off, teasing him with his tongue before taking him in again, over and over, until House thought he might break.

One stroke of the younger man's tongue was all it took to take House over, and he arched upwards with a loud moan, taking a handful of Jake's hair as he did so.

Jake smiled as he kissed his way back up House's body. The older man reacted like no one he had ever known, and Jake loved every sound he could coax out of him. "That was ridiculous. You're so goddamn hot." Jake whispered in his ear. "Stay put."

House snorted. "Wasn't planning on going anywhere."

"Good." Jake grinned as he dug around in his pants pocket. "Because I've still got plans for you."

Jake soon found what he was looking for, and he squirted the lube onto his fingers, starting with one finger, then two, as he lay beside House, watching those amazing blue eyes flutter closed, little noises of pleasure rumbling from his throat.

"Turn over for me." Jake whispered softly, and House easily complied, rolling over onto his stomach. The younger man shifted so that he was directly behind House, and he covered himself, slowly entering the older man.

Jake could hear House sigh under him, and he pushed deeper, soon finding their rhythm, their two bodies meeting the only sound in the room. He bent over House, running his hands all over his muscular back, the movement of the muscle under his skin turning him on even more than he thought possible, and it brought him right to the edge and over.

He lay his head against House's back, blowing out a long sigh at the exertion and the force of his own explosion. "You feel so good. I could lay like this forever."

House instantly froze. "Don't throw around words like that."

"Ah, come on." Jake patted House's back as he pulled out, disposing of the condom and coming back to lay an arm over House. "You're not into serious. I get it. It's cool." He pressed a kiss to the cheek that was turned to him. "Doesn't mean things couldn't change."

House closed his eyes. He didn't want things to change right now. "Things are good enough right now, don't you think?"

Jake's face fell, just a little. "Sure. I'm just saying."

House suddenly shifted, moving into a sitting position as he found his clothes. Jake lay back in the bed, watching the older man move around the room. Even at fifty, House looked damn good, all that muscle flexing under his skin. Gray hair, a few wrinkles, that didn't bother Jake at all. It gave him character, and that's what Jake liked.

The older man finished dressing and sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes and grab his glasses. He leaned down to give Jake a quick kiss. "How long are you here?"

"Until Thursday. I've got tomorrow off."

House nodded. "I'll call you."

"I'll be here." Jake smiled a little at House, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Be careful going home."

House chuckled. "You're kind of young and male to be my mother."

Jake shrugged. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to that fine body of yours."

House shook his head as he limped toward the door, pulling on his coat and leaving the room. After he left, Jake sighed heavily to himself. One of these nights he was going to find a way to convince the older man to spend the whole night with him. He didn't understand why House never wanted to stay, but Jake was damned tired of sleeping alone. There was more to the story, Jake knew that much. How much House would tell...well, that remained to be seen.

# # #

**Now I leave it to you. Read and review.**


	47. Chapter 47

**Managed to get one out during the week. Once again, I don't own House.**

# # #

House sat at his piano that night after leaving Jake, reflecting on...everything. Anthony's appearance had been a big surprise, and it had thrown a monkey wrench into his thoughts for the remainder of the day,

He almost wished he hadn't been so hard on the younger man. But being soft on him would have meant letting him in again, and House wasn't sure his heart could take that.

Jake's words had surprised him even more. _I could lay like this forever_. Logically speaking, House was sure it was merely the heat of the moment that had driven him, not any real feeling, kind of like the first time Anthony had called him 'hon'.

An increasingly familiar pang of sadness went through House at the memory. He took a long drink of his coffee, reflecting on the memory of _that_, too. It was the only thing close to liquid refreshment he kept in the place anymore. After his last bender a couple of months ago, House no longer trusted himself to keep alcohol around when he was alone. He could control his consumption well enough around others, but when he was alone...well, suffice to say that control just wasn't there.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts. House rose to answer it, knowing it could be anyone from Wilson to Cuddy to Chase to...

Anthony. Damn. House hadn't even considered that possibility.

House sighed heavily. "What do you want?"

The younger man held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I come in peace, I swear."

"That doesn't answer my question." House snapped.

Anthony sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I just want to talk, that's all. This isn't a booty call."

House rolled his eyes and stepped aside to let him in. "Good thing, because I've already had mine tonight."

The words were like a dull knife, twisting ever so slightly into Anthony's heart. Even if House were kidding, it still hurt. And he was quite sure House wasn't kidding. Anthony entered the apartment, looking around. Everything looked just like he remembered.

"There's coffee if you want it." House called over his shoulder from the kitchen.

Anthony's eyebrows shot up as he followed House. "The real deal?"

"Yeah." House regarded him sharply. "Not as good as yours, but...it'll do."

Anthony found a mug and poured himself a cup, daring to lean against the counter. God, everything was falling into old, familiar patterns, which was odd, seeing as they hadn't had that long to develop. He took a long drink, nodding in approval. "It's damn close. Thanks."

"Sure." House turned and left, returning to the piano. Anthony's presence alternately unnerved him and excited him. He played a slow piece in a fruitless attempt to calm his nerves, and he could smell Anthony pass by him on his way to the armchair. House glanced over at the younger man as he continued to play. "For someone who wants to talk, you're being awfully quiet."

Anthony took another long drink of his coffee and leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees. "I had this great speech all planned out."

"So what happened?"

"You answered the door."

The silence stretched between them as House let the notes die away. Anthony gathered what was left of his nerve and rose to join House at the piano. "May I?"

House shrugged with an indifference he didn't feel. "I guess."

Anthony sat down beside House, wrapping his hands around his mug as House resumed playing. He couldn't help but notice the older man's slightly shaking hands. "Are you okay?"

House narrowed his eyes in response, but kept playing. "Funny how you're only asking me that _now_."

"I meant your hands. They're shaking."

House sighed heavily. "Because I don't know why the hell you're here, and...I don't know why the hell I let you in." He rubbed his face. "We're over. Done. Kaput. I've moved on. You should, too."

"How do you know I haven't?" Anthony countered.

"Because you're _here._"

Anthony drained the last of his coffee mug and quickly rose from the bench. "You're right. I shouldn't have bothered you."

House could almost feel the breeze as Anthony flew by him on his way out the door. He took a deep breath before speaking. "I didn't say you had to leave. And...you're not bothering me. I just want to know what's going through your thick head, that's all."

Anthony paused at the apartment door, still unsure if he should stay or go. There was so much that he wanted to say, but none of it would come out. He swallowed the lump in his throat, finally managing to choke out, "I've missed you every fucking day since we split up. If I could rewind that whole damn night and start it over...I would." His tears threatened to spill over, and he fought to keep them at bay. "But, as you're so kind to remind me, there's nothing I can do."

House closed his eyes, feeling his own emotions coming a little too close to the surface. If he had 'moved on' as he had claimed, Anthony's words shouldn't be affecting him at all. And yet...here he sat, resisting the urge to pull the younger man to him, to somehow reassure him, comfort him like Anthony had done for him so many times before.

Try as he might, House just couldn't be the cold-hearted bastard he'd so often been accused of being over the years. This man had found his way into his heart and never really left, despite everything. House pushed himself off the bench and limped over to where Anthony stood, roughly placing a hand on his shoulder.

The younger man turned at the touch, and House roughly pulled him close, taking in that still-familiar crisp scent, blended with some other masculine scent. Obviously Anthony had been elsewhere before coming here, but...so had House. Right now it didn't matter, he decided as the younger man buried his face against his shoulder and unloaded, coming apart in his arms.

Finally the emotional storm subsided, and Anthony pulled back ruefully, wrinkling his nose at the mess he had left on House's t-shirt. "Hope this wasn't one of your good ones."

House snorted. "Even if it was...I've got more." He studied Anthony's face, lightly caressing his cheek. "You still want to talk?" Anthony's eyebrows shot up in surprise, followed by a quick nod. "Fine. Let's talk."

Anthony sighed heavily, allowing his hands to drift along House's waist as he pulled away. "In a minute. I need to wash the pathetic off my face."

House couldn't help but chuckle a little at that. "Better get moving then. I don't have all night."

Anthony snorted, all his emotions crashing into each other as he headed toward the bathroom. If he was reading House correctly, maybe there was still a chance for them. And even if he wasn't...at least they were talking. Anthony supposed he could make do with that, too.

# # #

House was back at the piano, two mugs of steaming coffee on top, when Anthony finally came out of the bathroom. He nodded at the mug on the right. "That one's yours."

"Thanks." Anthony took the mug, wrapping his hands around it as he sat and listened to House play. "So...how are things?"

House raised an eyebrow. "You mean personally or in general?"

"Either or. Maybe both."

"I got my department back." House smiled a little as he shifted into a slower piece. "I think Cuddy's debating the wisdom of that decision."

Anthony gave him a questioning look. "How so?"

"I think I set a new record for outrageous requests on our last case." House chuckled. "The woman practically turns and runs every time she sees me."

"Impressive." Anthony laughed softly.

"Yeah." House nodded. "She's a good boss. She's put up with a lot of shit from me over the years."

"She wouldn't if you weren't worth it."

House gave Anthony a sharp look. "No flirting, boy."

"I wasn't." Anthony rolled his eyes and took a long drink of his coffee. "Anything else exciting going on?"

House looked thoughtful for a moment, stopping long enough to take a drink from his mug. "Still doing the therapy thing."

"That's good."

"It is, actually." House seemed surprised. "The nightmares are...better. Still having them from time to time, but they're not as awful as they were."

"That's _really_ good." Anthony answered. "Must make it easier for...whoever." He silently cursed himself for the comment. "Sorry, that wasn't supposed to be out loud."

House frowned. "I know you'll find this hard to believe, but the babes are not beating down my door. There's been no one in that bed since you." That was true enough. House's few sexual encounters hadn't taken place here. He just couldn't bring himself to do that.

"I do find that hard to believe. That you're not seeing anyone, that is."

"I didn't say that." Anthony froze a little at House's words. "I just...don't bring them home."

Anthony turned slightly so that he faced House. "So..._are_ you seeing someone?"

"Are you?"

"I asked first."

There was a brief silence before House finally nodded. "Met some guy at a medical conference in New York a couple of weeks ago. We've been...getting together."

"Oh." Anthony placed his mug on top of the piano. "Is it...you know..."

"He doesn't want anything serious, and neither do I." House quickly answered, a little too quickly, Anthony thought. "He lives an hour away and works crazy hours. Makes getting together kind of a challenge."

"I can imagine." Anthony didn't know what to think now. The possibility that House had moved on was one thing. Being faced with that reality was quite another.

"So what about you?" House asked lightly. "You never did answer."

Anthony shrugged. "No one regularly. I went out with someone tonight."

"And yet you're here instead of there. Interesting."

"Not really." Anthony reached for his coffee and took a long drink. "He's a nice guy, but...not very interesting."

"So why did you bother?"

"Good question." Anthony chuckled bitterly and shook his head. "Guess it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Not to me." House spoke quietly. "What you do and who you do is none of my business. Guess it never really was."

"That's bullshit." Anthony snapped as he quickly rose from the piano bench and took his coffee mug to the kitchen. House could hear the mug slam hard against the stainless sink, and Anthony flew by, grabbing his coat and rushing out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

House groaned internally. He wasn't going to go after Anthony. _Let the idiot stew._ House thought as he drained the last of his mug.

He pushed himself off the bench and limped into the kitchen to set his mug in the sink. Anthony's mug was barely recognizable, shattered in large pieces, a few spots of blood dotting the stainless steel.

House sighed heavily. He had to go after Anthony now. The moron probably needed a couple of stitches, at the very least.

He shoved his feet into shoes and quickly put on his coat, even as he doubted Anthony was anywhere around. As quickly as he had flown out of here, he could have been halfway home or...wherever by now.

House threw open the main door to see Anthony pacing up and down the sidewalk, cursing to himself and holding his hand.

"You _are_ an idiot." Anthony looked up to see House standing in the doorway with a scowl. "Got a doctor right here."

"I'm fine." Anthony shot back. "Fuck off. Not like you care anyway."

House slowly made his way down the steps, mindful of the ice that often hid underneath. "Just let me take a look."

Anthony slowly opened his hand, and House could see the clean slice in the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger. He whistled softly. "That's gotta hurt."

"It's not that bad."

"You need stitches."

"I'll go to the ER. It's not that big a deal."

"I can do a better job than those hacks." House huffed in exasperation. "Look, by the time you finish arguing with me and _losing_, I could have you all fixed up and back out on the streets."

Anthony twisted his mouth, debating internally. His hand _did_ hurt like hell, and he was in for a long wait if he went to the ER. "Fine. You win. Happy?"

House merely rolled his eyes in response. "Just get in here."

Anthony followed House, taking in a whiff of his familiar scent, blended with something he didn't recognize. His mind conjured up all sorts of possible reasons for that before he mentally checked himself. It didn't matter what House was doing these days, because House was no longer his...anything.

House hung up his coat and toed off his shoes. Anthony did the same, and House gestured for him to follow him into the bathroom.

"Sit." House found his med kit as Anthony sat on the edge of the bathtub. The older man worked with concentration and precision, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully swabbed Anthony's cut and prepared to stitch him up.

House glanced up just before he started stitching. "You want something to numb it?"

Anthony shook his head. "Just do what you need to do."

"Masochist." House muttered as he started, his head bobbing up and down ever so slightly as he adjusted to his vision. Finally he gave up, shoving the glasses on top of his head and moving in closer to stitch up Anthony's hand.

Anthony watched, fascinated by House's steady hand and deep look of concentration. It was like watching an artist at work, and soon House had created a tidy line of stitches, the red-brown of the Betadine the only indication that anything had happened.

House finished, tying a small knot and clipping the end, impulsively bringing Anthony's hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss in the palm. "All better."

"Thanks." Anthony answered softly, sure that House could hear the thudding in his chest. "Greg?"

"Hmm?" House glanced up from his med kit, placing his glasses back on his face.

Anthony moved closer. "What if I didn't want to be out in the streets tonight?"

House looked baffled, but interested. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Just...hypothetically speaking." Anthony was quickly losing his nerve.

House shook his head. "Then you're more of an idiot than I thought."

"Thought you might say that." Anthony rose and left the bathroom, House not far behind. He put on his coat and shoes, turning to face House, placing a hand on his scruffy cheek. "Thanks for everything."

"Sure." House covered Anthony's hand with his own. "It was...good to see you."

"Same here." Anthony whispered. "Are you sure...?"

"I'm sure." House answered roughly.

Anthony nodded, giving House a quick kiss on the lips before turning and leaving. House stood in his doorway for a long moment, stunned at the jolt that went through him from just that little peck.

House dug his phone out of his pocket, finding the contact with slightly shaking hands.

"McCallum."

"It's just me." House's voice sounded shaky even to his own ears. "Didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Not at all." Jake sat up in bed, a slight smile crossing his face. "What's up?"

"Thought I might swing by, you know...if you're up for a slumber party."

Jake chuckled, a wave of excitement washing over him. "Of course."

House nodded. "See you in a few, then."

"Bye." Jake snapped his phone closed and tossed it on the nightstand. He could hardly believe his good luck. He wasn't sure what had changed House's mind, but he didn't care. It was good to know that he wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight. That wasn't a bad thing, not a bad thing at all.

# # #

Jake was lightly dozing when he heard the pounding on his hotel room door. He quickly jumped out of bed, padding to the door to answer.

A peek out revealed a very serious-looking House, a backpack slung over his shoulder. Jake swung the door open with a wide grin.

"Come on in. Make yourself at home."

House nodded firmly, toeing off his shoes and tossing his coat in the chair before he took his backpack into the bathroom. Jake could hear House moving around, assuming he was going through whatever evening ritual House usually did, and the older man soon emerged in bare feet, a well-worn t-shirt, and flannel pants.

"Are you married?" Jake asked House as he set his glasses on the bedside table and eased himself onto the bed.

"What?" House threw Jake a disbelieving look. "Why the hell would you think that?"

Jake shrugged. "Just wondering, you know. Most of the time the door never has a chance to hit you on the way out, now all of a sudden you're calling me in the middle of the night wanting to play slumber party." He lay on his side, facing House as he slipped an arm over the older man's chest. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're here. It just seems...odd."

House shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to spill the whole story of his evening. "Just didn't feel like being alone, that's all. You okay with that?"

"Of course." Jake drew closer, laying his head on House's shoulder. "I didn't want to be alone either. Hell, I didn't want you to leave earlier."

House twisted his mouth in thought. "Yeah, well, I probably won't be sleeping much tonight. I usually don't." He shifted so that he faced Jake. "I have nightmares, and I've been known to wake up screaming. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Thanks for the heads up." Jake smiled slightly, still not entirely convinced that House was telling the whole story. Not that it mattered right now. "You know...there's no reason we have to go _right_ to sleep."

House crinkled his bright blue eyes in amusement. "I'm an old man. What makes you think I'd be up for a second round?"

Jake deftly pushed House over to his back, his own soft blue eyes sparkling with something House couldn't quite place. "I think I could have you _up _for it in no time."

"Sounds like a challenge to me." House chuckled, a low, mellow sound that sent shivers through Jake.

Jake bent down to place a soft kiss on House's neck, just under his jaw, finishing with a flick of his tongue. House's breath caught in his throat as Jake went further, lightly sucking at the tender spot while continuing to caress with his tongue, and House let out little involuntary noises of pleasure.

"I win." Jake whispered softly in House's ear. "Can't wait to get my prize."

House would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't enjoying what the young doctor was doing to him. It was a good thing Jake was good in bed. House wasn't sure if he could listen to his silly lines otherwise. It sure as hell didn't compare to the conversations he and Anthony used to have, curled up against each other. Even if it wasn't anything deep, it was almost always interesting.

He shoved the thought aside as Jake pressed against him, teasing him all over with lips and tongue. This thing between them was just that. Just a thing. They didn't have to have deep conversations to enjoy each other. Right now, what was happening was good enough. At least, that was what House kept telling himself. Maybe if he told himself the same story over and over, he would start to believe it.

# # #

**Now it's your turn. Read and review.**


	48. Chapter 48

**Don't own them. Never have, never will. I still like making them and my O/Cs play together, though.**

# # #

Jake awakened the next morning to the sound of the shower running, oddly disappointed. He had almost hoped to coax House into a third round before the older man went into work.

Maybe it wasn't too late. Jake grinned to himself as he rolled out of bed and padded toward the bathroom, entertaining the idea of surprising House. He pushed open the door, the woodsy scent of House's soap overwhelming him as he stepped into the steamy bathroom.

House was standing in front of the sink, wrapped in a towel and brushing his teeth. He regarded Jake suspiciously. "Didn't your mother teach you to knock?" He mumbled around his toothbrush.

"Didn't yours teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" Jake teased House as he came up behind him, placing one hand on either side of him and lightly kissing the older man's shoulder. His skin was still warm and moist from the shower, and the scent of his soap floated off his body, filling Jake's nostrils. It was undeniably male, and undeniably sexy, and Jake couldn't help but slip his hands around to rest on House's stomach, pressing his cheek against his back. "Mmm...you smell so damn good. Are you sure they can't do without you today?"

House couldn't help but be reminded of how Anthony had wrapped himself around him in similar fashion not so long ago. "I'm sure." He answered, surprised at the rough tone of his own voice.

"Hmm. Too bad." Jake pressed a line of light kisses up House's spine, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss the back of his neck, and he heard House's sharp inhale of breath at the touch. "Guess this will just have to hold me until later." He peeked over House's shoulder, his eyes just barely visible in the mirror as House regarded him with something like amusement. "That is, if you still want to get together."

House nodded. "Unless something interesting crosses my desk."

Jake knew that was as much of a confirmation as he would get from House. "Just let me know."

"Will do." House reluctantly removed the younger man's hands from around him, squeezing them as he did so. He limped heavily out of the bathroom and pulled his clothes out of the small closet, sitting on the edge of the bed to dress.

Jake was already back on the bed, laying back to watch House. He would have preferred to pull the older man back into bed with him, but that would have to wait for another time. Instead he simply scooted closer, lightly trailing his hand along House's back.

House turned to face him, a slight smirk crossing his rough features. "Is that part of some evil plot to keep me here?"

"Maybe." Jake grinned at him. "Is it working?"

"Not this time. Nice try, though."

"Damn." Jake hopped off the bed as House rose to gather his coat and backpack. "I'll have to try harder."

House rolled his eyes. "You're weird."

"Don't care." Jake laughed and pulled House down to him for a long, indulgent kiss. House responded with a low, soft moan despite himself, placing a hand at the small of Jake's back to pull the younger man closer to him. Finally they broke apart, and Jake lightly touched House's lips with one finger. "See you later."

House merely nodded in response and quietly left the room. He paused just outside, staring at the closed door for a moment before shaking his head and limping down the hallway to the elevator.

He stopped to buy himself a coffee at the kiosk in the lobby, and the older woman behind the counter greeted him with a familiar nod. House was rapidly becoming a familiar face around here, and it piqued her curiosity.

House pushed the buttons to unlock his doors and start his car, climbing in just as the seats started to warm up. His mind was too occupied to indulge in that particular pleasure just then as he plugged in his I Pod and took a long drink of his coffee.

What a night. Between Anthony's visit and his evening with Jake, things were starting to get a little too interesting in House's world. As he pulled out of the hotel parking lot, he had to chuckle a little at the absurdity of the whole situation. It was odd to House that after so many years alone he was suddenly surrounded by...options, for lack of a better word.

He had come so close to letting Anthony stay last night, and that bothered him. It was a big part of why he had come back here instead of staying home. House knew he would have obsessed over things otherwise. At least this way he had some company and...well, other things, too. Other things that Jake did exceptionally well, without the stress of emotional attachment. As much as House missed the tender emotional undercurrent that was such a part of his relationship with Anthony, the pure physicality that made up the bulk of this thing with Jake was not without its own appeal.

House shook off his thoughts as he pulled into his parking space and carefully made his way into the parking lot. Wilson happened to be waiting for the elevator as House strode across the lobby, and soon he saw why.

Michaels was with him, initially hidden from view. House hoped like hell this was a coincidence, except that House didn't generally believe in such things.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Dynamic Duo." House remarked casually as he approached.

"You're early." Wilson's eyebrows scrunched up as Michaels tried to hide a smile behind her hand. "What's wrong?"

"Why do you assume that something's wrong?" House answered.

"This _is_ you we're talking about." Wilson regarded House skeptically as the three of them stepped onto the elevator.

"Normally I'd agree, but today..." House looked thoughtful. "Nope, nothing wrong. Just running early, that's all."

Michaels gave Wilson a brief kiss before she stepped off at her floor, and House felt a brief pang at the affectionate look that passed between the neurologist and his best friend. Things were clearly progressing nicely between them, and while House was happy for them, it still hurt.

Wilson didn't miss the change in expression on House's face. He glanced over at his friend with a concerned look. "You want to talk?"

House twisted his mouth, leaning on his cane as he stared at the floor, finally shaking his head. "No."

Wilson nodded as they stepped off the elevator and made their way to their respective offices. He knew now that House would come to him if and when he was ready to talk, and pressing the matter would only result in House shutting him out.

House paused and turned to face Wilson. "You free for lunch?"

Wilson nodded. "Sure. Come get me when you're ready."

House nodded firmly in return, turning back toward his office. He was nowhere near ready to share with Wilson everything that was going through his head right now, and that was fine with him. No sense burdening Wilson with his issues. He'd done enough of that to last them both a lifetime.

He drained the remains of his cup of coffee as he entered his office, throwing it in his trash can a little harder than he intended. In the conference room, Taub looked up from the file he was looking over, rising to enter the office.

"Cuddy sent this up with me this morning." Taub handed House the file.

House set down his backpack and took the file, scanning its contents. This had potential to be interesting...very interesting. A slow smile found its way onto his face. "Cool." He handed the file back to Taub. "Start getting the patient history."

Taub nodded, turning away before allowing a small smile to cross his face. If _House _was excited about this case...they were in for one hell of a ride.

# # #

As House suspected, their case took up the team's time and energy for much of the morning. Before he knew it, Wilson was tapping on his office door, indicating the time by pointing at his watch.

House quickly hopped up from his desk chair, grabbing his cane and pushing through his office door to join Wilson in the hallway. He was nearly bouncing as he strode toward the elevator, and Wilson found it nearly impossible to keep up.

"What's your hurry?" Wilson was nearly out of breath by the time they reached the elevator. "Pretty sure the cafeteria isn't going to run out of Reubens."

House's mouth twitched in a slight smile. "My case has taken a _very _interesting turn. Wouldn't be surprised to get a page during lunch."

Wilson arched his eyebrow. House hadn't been this excited over a case in years, and it made him wonder if his friend was hiding something. It wouldn't be the first time.

It was a quiet ride to the cafeteria, and the two men got their lunch. "I'll find us a seat. Place is looking kind of crowded today." House limped away, and Wilson rolled his eyes as he realized his friend had once again stuck him with the bill. Good thing House paid once in a while. It made times like this a little more tolerable.

Wilson soon joined House at a booth, noting that the place wasn't crowded at all. It was early afternoon, and the place was almost deserted. "So, about your case?"

"Tony stopped by last night." House suddenly changed subjects.

Wilson scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. "I thought you were with...what's-his-name...?"

"Jake. Yeah. I was." House swallowed the bite in his mouth. "I went home, and no sooner had I sat down, Tony shows up."

"And...?"

House shrugged, trying to look indifferent and failing miserably. "And nothing. He showed up, we talked, I snarked, he cried, he cut himself, I patched him up, he kissed me, and I went back to spend the rest of the night with Jake." House glanced across the table at Wilson, who looked stunned as he tried to digest all the information. "What?"

"You lost me." Wilson shook his head. "Go back. You know, to the 'he showed up' part."

House scowled. "You're mocking me."

"I swear that I'm not." Wilson continued eating his lunch.

"Right." House rolled his eyes and finished the remains of his sandwich. "Forget it. It doesn't matter anyway. None of it changes anything."

"True, but..." Wilson had a sudden thought. "You didn't slam the door in his face. You let him in. That means something."

"It means nothing." House glared at Wilson.

"Right, and denial's just a river in Egypt." Wilson cast House a skeptical glance in response. "You still feel something for him."

House twisted his mouth, looking down at his now empty plate. Wilson was right, but what good did it do? He still couldn't trust the guy, and too much time had passed anyway. Besides, he had a perfectly good thing going with Jake. It wasn't love, far from it, but that was okay. Love had managed to cause House nothing but problems. This was a far better way to go.

"House?" Wilson's concerned voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Say something."

House shrugged. "I've got nothing."

Wilson decided to let the matter drop. House was an adult, fully capable of deciding what he wanted. If he didn't want Anthony in his life, that was his choice. It just seemed like a damned foolish decision to Wilson. He shook his head and slid out of the booth to take care of his tray. "I've got a meeting. I'll see you later."

House pushed himself to his feet, setting his tray on top of Wilson's, much to the younger man's annoyance. "And I need to check in on the kids. No telling what they're doing to that girl in my absence."

Wilson snapped his fingers as if he had forgotten something. "Lillian wants to know if you're coming to her party Saturday night. What do you want me to tell her?"

House made a face of displeasure. "Still thinking about it. You sure this isn't some misguided matchmaking attempt on her part?"

"I have no idea. She can be damned devious when she wants to be." Wilson rolled his eyes slightly. "I'll tell her..."

"Just tell her the damned truth." House snapped, then huffed in irritation. "I'll..._tentatively _accept. So maybe I'll show, maybe I won't. Tell her not to get too excited."

Wilson chuckled at that. "I'll let her know."

The two men separated, and House returned to his office. The team was back at the table, debating amongst themselves, and House quickly fell back into his routine, scribbling on the whiteboard, guiding the differential. The puzzle that made up his personal life was shoved to a far corner of his mind as he lost himself in his work. Right now, nothing else mattered.

# # #

It was late in the evening by the time the patient was once again stabilized. House and his team wasn't much closer to a diagnosis, but the patient was out of danger for now. He dug out his phone and called Jake.

"Hey, man." The younger man answered cheerfully. "I almost thought you were going to leave me hanging."

"Tough case kind of held me up." House replied as he made a few notes in the patient's chart. "I think she'll survive the night, anyway. How's Chinese sound?"

"Sounds great. Do you want to meet somewhere?"

"Sure." House gave Jake an address of one of his favorite places.

"Cool, got it. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yep." House closed his phone and stuck it in his pocket as he pushed himself out of his desk chair and prepared to leave for the night. The rest of the team was long gone, House having released them once the patient was stabilized.

It was a long, quiet ride down to the lobby, and House was grateful for the brief time alone with his thoughts. He found himself looking forward to his dinner with Jake. House didn't consider it a date, not by a long shot, although he was enjoying the younger man's company more and more as they got together.

House snorted softly to himself as he crossed the lobby and made his way to the parking lot. He pushed the remote start and found his snow brush, brushing off the large flakes that fell hard and fast from the dark sky.

Before long he was in his warm car, making his way through the city and pulling into the parking lot of the Chinese restaurant. House opened the door, and immediately spotted Jake just inside the door.

"Hey." Jake's face lit in a smile as he greeted House with a quick shoulder squeeze. He would have liked to have done more, but House didn't seem particularly comfortable with such public displays. "I was wondering if you were going to make it."

House waved his cane around. "This thing tends to slow me down."

"Ah, of course." Jake felt a little silly for forgetting about House's disability. The cane seemed as much a part of the man as his bright blue eyes.

The eyes weren't the first thing Jake had noticed about the man when they had been seated next to each other at that conference. It was the older man's grumbling to his friend that had come with him that had caught his ear. Jake loved the sound of House's voice, and found himself amused at the snarky comments that came out of his mouth, much to his friend's chagrin. It was only later on, at lunch, and then at dinner, that Jake had noticed the eyes at all.

By then it was too late. Those eyes had been Jake's downfall, and those eyes, along with the rest of House, was what had him driving all the way to Princeton whenever he could get a day off. As far as Jake was concerned, he was well worth it.

Jake followed House to a table, and he perused the menu, occasionally glancing up to watch House's animated facial expressions. The older man seemed to sense him staring, and met him with a sharp glare.

Jake couldn't help but smile a little in response. "Sorry, didn't mean to stare."

House rolled his eyes. "I know, you just couldn't help it, right?"

Jake reached out with one hand to trace random patterns on the back of House's hand. "You'd stare too if you had such fine-looking company."

"Who's to say I don't?" House countered, his glare softening into a slight smile. He still had a hard time with the idea that anyone found him attractive, but he no longer felt such a strong need to disagree with that opinion. Enough people, both men and women, had floated through his life recently that he was almost starting to believe the assertion.

"Well, thank you." Jake's smile widened, lighting up his face. He pulled back his hand to return to the menu. "So, what's good?"

House seemed more comfortable with that particular line of conversation, and they soon ordered their food and relaxed while splitting a pot of hot tea between them.

"This is nice." Jake remarked. "Thank you."

"Sure." House mumbled, feeling distinctly awkward. "Seemed like a good change of scenery. It's got to be better than that hotel room."

"Oh, I didn't spend all day there." Jake quickly answered. "I got out and about a little bit. This is a cool little town, you know that?"

"Can't say I've seen a lot of it."

Jake looked at House as if he were crazy. "And how long have you lived here?"

House honestly couldn't remember exactly when he'd moved to Princeton. "I don't know...fifteen, twenty years maybe. I just...don't get out much."

"No shit." Jake shook his head. "Next time I come see you, I'll give you the tour of _your _town."

House wasn't sure how he felt about that. "Next time?"

Jake tilted his head in response. "I'd like to think there will be a next time. Do you know something I don't?"

"No. It's just...I don't know." House shook his head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

Jake reached out once again to touch House's hand, this time covering it with his own. "It's okay. I'm probably getting a little ahead of myself. I could stand to dial it back a little."

One corner of House's mouth turned up, crinkling the skin around his eyes. God _damn,_ the man was gorgeous when he smiled. Jake wanted nothing more than to lean across the table and kiss him senseless.

Fortunately for both of them, their food arrived, and they both dug in, eventually relaxing into general conversation. House found himself picking the younger doctor's brain regarding his current case, and was pleasantly surprised when he threw out a few ideas House hadn't considered.

"Well damn." House sounded impressed. "If you ever find yourself in need of a job...I could kick someone off my team to make room."

Jake shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly to match his hair. "It's easier to see things when you're not so close to them. Besides, I like what I'm doing. It's paying the student loans."

House had nearly forgotten how young Jake was. Chances were good that he was still ass-deep in debt. "What the hell are you doing blowing your money on hotel rooms, then?"

Jake smiled again, placing his chin on his hand and propping it up on his elbow to meet House's eyes. "You're worth it."

House shook his head. The kid was too much. "Like you couldn't find anyone worthwhile in Newark?"

"No one like you, that's for damn sure."

"Some would think that's not a bad thing."

"Some people are idiots." Jake leaned back in his chair, eyeing the older man. "Look, most guys my age, they're into their careers or already settled in with someone. Younger men get on my damn nerves, which leaves...you."

House snorted, but a smile crept across his weathered face. "Crazy damn kid."

"Compared to you, I'm sure I am." Jake narrowed his eyes slightly. "But I think we both know I've proven otherwise."

That was true enough. Jake was blessed with a sexual prowess that belied his youth. Things between them flared hot, passionate, sometimes a little on the rough side. House didn't mind. He'd take it for as long as the fire burned. When things eventually burned out, House would accept that, too. Something like this could only last for so long.

The waiter brought the bill, and House tossed down his debit card, soon signing the receipt. "Ready?"

Jake nodded. Watching House tonight just heightened his desire for the older man. His eyes, his slight smile, his verbal skills...the man was a living, breathing aphrodisiac. The best part was, he didn't seem to recognize it.

He followed House outside, the earlier snow having abated to a few fine flurries. The impulse from earlier overcame him, and he guided House to press him up against his car before the older man realized what was happening.

"Hey, easy on the cripple, there." House growled. "I'm not so quick on my feet."

"No problem." Jake responded softly. "I wouldn't have let you fall. Then I wouldn't have been able to do this." He pressed his lips to House's, slowly slipping in his tongue to tangle roughly with House's.

It was rough, hot , and sweet, and House succumbed to the sensation until Jake broke the kiss, staring him down with those soft blue eyes. "_God, _I can't wait to get you back to my room."

"My place is probably closer." The words tumbled out before House could stop them.

"Works for me." House gave him the address, and Jake immediately punched it into his phone to get directions. He gave House one more quick kiss before climbing into his car. "See you soon."

House nodded, stunned by his own actions. Part of the point of getting a room was to keep from getting too attached. So much for that plan.

"To hell with it." House muttered as he climbed into his own car. Hot sex was hot sex, and that could happen either at his place or Jake's hotel room. His place sounded just fine to House, and he shut down any further doubts before they could take root as he pulled out of the parking lot, squealing the tires slightly on his way out.

# # #

**It's that time again. Read and review.**


	49. Chapter 49

**Yes, I'm an updating fool today. Still don't own House, though.**

# # #

As House pulled up in front of his building, he noticed the headlights of the car behind him. The headlights dimmed, and Jake climbed out, casually pocketing his keys and rounding the front of his car.

House shut off the ignition with shaky fingers, fumbling as he found his apartment keys and pushed himself out of the car to meet Jake at the front door. He could feel the younger man's eyes upon him as he unlocked the main door and quickly turned to unlock the door leading into his apartment.

Jake took a quick look around as he entered behind House. The first thing that caught his eye was the baby grand piano that took up a good deal of the living room, followed by the impressive display of guitars on the wall. He whistled in admiration. "Do you play these?"

"Been known to." House replied tersely as he hung up his coat. "I'll be right back. There's probably something drinkable in the fridge if you want it."

Jake nodded and hung his coat over House's, knowing it would pick up the distinctive woodsy scent. It was a little something he could take home with him, just enough to hold him over until he could see the older man again.

If House's demeanor was any indication, Jake wasn't sure when that might be. He had a horrible feeling that someone else was going to walk through that apartment door any minute, even though there was no sign that another person other that House lived here. That didn't mean much, Jake knew.

House soon reemerged, grabbing his cane that hung over the hallway entrance as he returned to the living room. He had shed the sports jacket and button down, and was now wearing the retro style t-shirt and dark wash jeans, his feet bare. Jake could see the muscle in House's arm flex as he leaned on the cane, gesturing to him. "Take off your shoes, stay a while."

The tension was still evident in House's voice, and Jake was starting to wonder whether House wanted him here at all. He did as he was told and padded through the living room, following House into the kitchen.

The older man was rummaging through the refrigerator, muttering to himself as he did so. Jake leaned on the open door, peeking over it to observe House. "Anything I can help with?"

House initially shot Jake a dark glare before emitting a short sigh. "No. It's just...been a while since I've brought anyone home, if you know what I mean."

Jake nodded. No wonder the guy was such a nervous wreck. He got the feeling that House didn't let people in easily. "No problem. We've got all night." He gestured toward the 12 pack of Coke. "I'll take one of those if you're still offering."

House seemed to visibly relax as he handed one of the cans to Jake, their fingertips brushing ever so slightly. The older man jerked back as if he'd been shocked, his blue eyes opening just a little wider before quickly closing the refrigerator.

This had been a stupid idea, and House knew that the minute the invitation escaped from his mouth. That was the last time he said _anything _in the heat of a moment. It led to all kinds of foolishness, clearly.

House limped heavily back to the living room, passing up the piano in favor of one of the guitars that adorned his wall. The piano just reminded him too damned much of Anthony, and it would do nothing to help him sort out the tangled mess of thoughts that were coursing through his head right now.

He set down his can on a coaster on top of the piano and picked out the Flying V, plugging it into a nearby amp and adjusting the volume before tuning the guitar. Satisfied with the sound, he picked out a tune at random, letting his fingers fly over the fretboard, each note crisp and precise, losing himself in his music.

Jake quietly entered the living room, sitting down at the end of the leather couch, watching in fascination as House's long fingers danced up and down the guitar. The older man was obviously in his own world right now, his expressive face matching the glorious sounds that sprang forth from the guitar. He looked every inch like an aging 80s rock star as he moved his body in rhythm with the music he was producing.

It was one of the sexiest things Jake had ever witnessed.

Finally House finished his piece, and Jake could see that he was breathing a little heavily as he took a long drink from the can on the piano. Jake would have liked to have heard House play that piano, too. If he was anywhere near as good on that piano as he was on the guitar...

"You play?" House's slightly ragged voice pulled Jake out of his thoughts.

"I used to." Jake replied, not sure he was any match for House's skill. "Haven't played in a while though."

House gestured to the wall. "Pick one and plug in."

"Are you serious?" Jake's eyes went wide as he surveyed the remaining guitars.

House rolled his eyes. "They're not just there as decoration. Pick one."

Jake picked one of the guitars and gently strapped it around his neck, plugging into the other amp and fumbling a bit as he tuned up. He had missed this, and it made him want to dig his own guitar out of storage. Sixty hour work weeks weren't particularly conducive to keeping hobbies going, but Jake was suddenly sad that he'd let this one go.

"One word of warning." House intoned. "If I hear one note of 'Stairway to Heaven' or 'Smoke On The Water', I will kick you out. Got it?"

Jake chuckled in understanding. If he had a dollar for every time he had heard some idiot at a party pick up a guitar and play the opening riff of 'Smoke On The Water', he could have paid off his student loans by now, with plenty left over. "Got it."

Instead Jake played a few chords at random, letting the memories come to the surface as he fingers started to remember what they were supposed to do. Finally he settled on an old Pearl Jam song, the notes easily flowing out of the guitar, accompanied by his own growling vocals.

House tilted his head in interest. The kid was damned good. He vaguely recognized the song as on that had been on Anthony's I Pod, but damned if he could recall what is was or who it was by. About halfway in, House started following along, and found himself caught up in the music.

"Good stuff." House nodded in approval as the song ended. "Who was that?"

Jake threw House an incredulous look. "Pearl Jam. Have you been under a rock for the last fifteen years?"

"Metaphorically speaking...that's entirely possible." House responded as he played a few random notes. "Fifteen years, huh? Were you even going through puberty then?"

"Ha, ha." Jake rolled his eyes as he retuned. "I got my first job when I was sixteen. With my first paycheck, I bought the very first Pearl Jam CD. Think I might have bought Nirvana, too. Anyway, I played along with that CD and learned every song. Drove my mom nuts."

House couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. "I can't even remember the first _record_ I bought. I just remember playing...everything. Whatever I could get my hands on. I spent a lot of time at the music store, buying sheet music and playing until my fingers couldn't move." House tilted his head. "Do they even make sheet music anymore?"

"I have no idea." Jake laughed. "And why such an emphasis on _record_? I'm not so young that I don't know what they are."

House shrugged and twisted his mouth. All of a sudden, the weight of his years crashed down on him. "How old are you again?"

"Does it really matter?" Jake fixed House with a slight smile. The sight of the young redhead standing in front of him with that guitar casually slung around him triggered something in House, and he quickly turned to drain the remains of his Coke.

"I guess not." House muttered, glancing down at his guitar as he played a few more random notes.

Jake tilted his head at House. "You want to pick something?"

House glanced up at Jake's curious expression. "Thought you were here for...other reasons."

Jake shrugged. "I'm really enjoying this. I'd just as soon play on, if that's okay with you."

House nodded, somewhat surprised at the turn the evening had taken. If all the younger man wanted to do was hang out and play music, that was fine. He could feel his edginess ebbing away as they played. Maybe this hadn't been such a horrible idea after all.

# # #

The two men played back and forth for a long time, exchanging songs and talking in between. House was surprised at how easily the conversation flowed, and impressed with both Jake's skill and extensive musical knowledge.

Jake blew out a long sigh, flexing his fingers and wincing at the sore fingertips. "I haven't played that long since my last band gig ten years ago."

"Seriously?" House threw Jake a baffled look as he hung up the Flying V.

"Seriously." Jake affirmed. "I played in a cover band all through college. Had to hang it up when I started med school." He tilted his head in thought. "Come to think of it, I haven't played much since, so...thank you."

"Sure." House nodded ever so slightly as he took the guitar from Jake's hands and hung it up. The nerves that had dissipated while he and Jake were playing returned, and he suddenly felt awkward. "So...uh...this was fun."

"Yes, it was." Jake lifted his chin slightly to look into House's eyes. The older man once again looked uncertain, and Jake didn't want to do anything to make him more uncomfortable. "I'd like to do that again sometime...if you don't mind."

House nodded, hoping the younger man couldn't hear his pounding heart or rapidly increasing breathing. "You could even bring your own...next time."

Jake smiled a little wider. "I'd like that."

The tension was thick between them, until Jake broke it by placing a hand on House's waist and planting a light kiss on House's lips. "So...is this where I say good night?"

House swallowed hard, moving to take Jake's hands in his own. "I don't know."

Jake lightly squeezed House's hands. "Just because I'm here doesn't mean anything has to happen. I can stay or go. It's up to you."

"You're leaving in the morning." House answered. "Don't you want a little something-something before you go?"

"I'm going back to Newark, not the other side of the universe." Jake chuckled, still holding House's shaking hands. "And I'm on your home turf. Your place, your rules. If you don't want...whatever, then what I want is kind of irrelevant."

House could feel the emotion building inside him at Jake's words. Anthony had said something similar to him the first night he had spent in this apartment. He drew in a ragged sigh at the thought.

Jake wrinkled his brow in concern. "Did I say something wrong?"

"It's not you." House choked out. "It's...me, it's this place, it's..." He released Jake's hands and gestured toward the couch. "You'd better sit down. It's story time."

Jake took a seat at one end while House took the other, lifting his leg to rest on the coffee table. After a couple hours of standing on it, the thing was throbbing. He absentmindedly rubbed at it, not sure where he wanted to start with Jake.

"You remember me telling you it's been a while since I've had anyone here?"

Jake nodded. "Yeah."

"The last...person that was here was this guy Tony." House started. He told the story of how they had met, how they had fallen for each other so quickly and easily, right up to House's illness and the brief period after.

Jake was enraptured by House's story. "He sounds like a great guy. So what happened?"

This was the difficult part. "I decided to hang out with my friend Wilson, and he went to some dance club with his friend." House was still a little angry over that. It was irrational, he knew, but he couldn't help it. "He met some kid, they danced...he swore up and down that nothing else happened, and I wanted to believe him, but..." House shook his head. "Five points for honesty, minus ten for letting that shit happen in the first place."

"So that was it?"

"Yeah." House's voice was ragged at the memory of their goodbye. "That was it. Been two months now, and he's tried to talk to me a few times but...I can't do it. I can't let him in again, and I'm not sure I can let anyone else in either." He gestured at Jake. "That's why this thing was so damned perfect. You blow into town when you can, we hook up, you go home. It was perfect...until now."

Jake reached out and took House's hand. "If he let you get away, he's an idiot. On the other hand...maybe you're being a little hard on him. You guys were together what, a month?" Jake shrugged. "It doesn't sound like he went all the way with that other guy."

"That's just it." House looked oddly defeated. "I don't know. I hate not knowing."

"Mm-hm." Jake tilted his head to catch House's eyes. "Everybody lies, right?"

House looked baffled. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

"Some guy giving a lecture at a medical conference last year. Cole, I think his name was." Jake scrunched up his face in thought. "He told this wild tale about his job interview, which he eventually lost out on, and he mentioned you by name, along with that phrase."

"No wonder you hit on me." House looked vaguely amused despite himself. "Trying to get a piece of the fame."

"Anyway..." Jake shot House a meaningful look. "Back to the subject at hand."

"Right." House frowned, trying to remember where they had left off. "So he's tried to talk to me a couple of times since. He _says_ he misses me, but...I just don't know."

"What do _you _want?" Jake suddenly asked him.

House was startled by the question. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I asked." Jake shifted slightly. "What do you want? Once you figure that out, the rest is pretty simple."

House lay his head over the back of the couch, looking up at the ceiling. "Okay, so. Hypothetically speaking...I figure out what I want, and I go after it, and I get rejected. Then what?"

"Then you respect the other person's wishes." Jake told him firmly. "I said it was simple. I didn't say it would be easy." He squeezed House's hand affectionately. "If you get knocked down, get up. Then call me."

House frowned. "How do you know I'm going to go after Tony?"

Jake smiled warmly, a hint of sadness behind it. "I've had your body for the last couple of weeks, but this guy's had your heart for far longer. Sounds like there's a possibility he feels the same way." He leaned forward for a light kiss. "You owe it to both of you to try."

"And if I fail?"

"I'm only a phone call away." Jake answered.

"Why would you do that?" House was completely confused.

Jake shrugged as he rose to his feet. "I like you, and I'm starting to think of you as a friend. Wouldn't mind if it were more than that, but...there it is."

House nodded, oddly touched by Jake's words. "You're a pretty smart kid, you know that?"

"I've loved and lost a few guys over the years." Jake looked thoughtful. "Might as well learn from it and pass on the wisdom."

House found himself a little overwhelmed as he pushed himself to his feet and wrapped the young man in a long hug. "Give me a call when you get a day off. Wouldn't mind jamming with you again."

"I'll do that." Jake returned the hug, taking in House's scent for what might be the last time. "Good luck, and...be easy on him."

"No promises." House muttered as he released Jake.

"Just do your best." Jake answered reassuringly. "That's all you can do."

Jake put on his shoes and coat, squeezing House's shoulder and reaching up for one last brief kiss. "If you and this Tony guy do get back together, I have a feeling you're going to make it over the long haul."

"I don't know about that." House answered ruefully.

"I do. You know how I know?" House shook his head, and Jake placed one hand on House's scruffy cheek. "Because you don't tolerate any bullshit, and he'll know that now."

"We'll see." House was still doubtful. "You sure I can call you if it blows up in my face?"

"Even if it doesn't, call me." Jake laughed. "I want to hear about your successes, too, not just your failures."

With that, Jake was gone, leaving House standing in the doorway, the cold wind blowing in a few snowflakes. He had to admit, he was starting to like the young man, too, and not just for what he could do in the bedroom. The kid was wise beyond his years, and he'd be a good guy to have on his side.

He closed the door, scrubbing his hand over his head as he pulled out his phone. It made sense to call first, just in case Anthony had something...or some_one_ going on. With shaking fingers he found the younger man's number and hit send.

House held his breath while the phone rang, nearly jumping out of his skin when he heard Anthony's voice on the other end. "Greg? What the hell? It's the middle of the night."

_Shit._ House had been so charged up by Jake's encouragement that he hadn't even thought to check the time. "Sorry. I'll call back some other time."

Anthony sighed slightly and sat up in bed, turning on the bedside light. "No point. I'm awake now. So, what do you want?"

House was starting to lose his nerve, and he sort of wished Jake had stuck around for this part. He could use his support right now. He blew out a long puff of air before continuing. "I want you."

Anthony pulled the phone away from his ear to look at it, not believing what he was hearing. "What was that?"

House's heart was pounding in his chest, so loudly that he was surprised Anthony couldn't hear it. "You heard me. Look...can I come over? I don't want to do this over the phone."

Anthony's heart was racing with a mixture of fear, nerves, and anticipation. "Yes. Please, come over. Just...be careful. I'll be here whenever you get here."

House nodded, his emotions starting to overwhelm him once again. "See you in a few." He snapped his phone closed, barely believing what was happening. He was doing what he told himself he'd never do.

He _was_ going to chase after that idiot. House just hoped like hell he was doing the right thing. As he started his car and brushed it off in preparation to leave, he found Jake's number in his contacts and hit send.

"Hey, hey." Jake answered with his standard good cheer. "How's it going?"

"So far so good." House spoke quickly. "I'm on my way over there right now. So if you don't hear from me after this...I'm either getting some or he killed me."

Jake snorted at House's statement. "You're crazy, in a good way."

"Yeah, yeah." House grumbled as he climbed into the car. "Okay, I'm driving. Gotta get off the phone."

"Good luck. And be careful. Still don't want anything to happen to all that fineness."

There was the beginning of a chuckle from House as the line went dead, and Jake turned the phone over in his hand before setting it on the bedside table. _Go get your man, Greg, _he thought to himself as he turned on his side and fell asleep.

The last couple weeks had been a fun ride, and it looked like Jake was going to get a friend out of the deal, if all went well. And if it didn't, for some odd reason...Jake didn't even bother to entertain the thought. He was certain that these two men belonged together. Now he just hoped they could figure that out for themselves.

# # #

**You know what happens next. Read and review.**


	50. Chapter 50

**So...this one's kind of crazy long, but I have my reasons. :) As usual, I don't own anything but the O/Cs.**

# # #

After his phone call from House, Anthony practically leaped out of bed, pacing around his living room. He was suddenly glad that his date that evening had been something of a disaster. Now there was nothing to get between he and House.

He was surprised to hear from him. Something must had happened between House and whoever he was seeing to trigger this. Anthony wasn't sure he wanted to know.

The achingly familiar sound of wood on wood nearly made Anthony jump out of his skin, and he collected himself enough to answer the door. There was House, seemingly frozen to the spot just outside his door, the glasses he now wore full time doing nothing to hide those brilliant blue eyes, his woodsy scent blending with the crisp scent of freshly fallen snow.

It was a beautiful sight to Anthony, and nothing short of a miracle in his mind. He stepped aside slightly to give the older man room to come in.

House quietly entered, suddenly feeling unsure as the adrenaline wore off. This had sounded like such a great idea when he was talking about it with Jake. Now that he was here, though...he was scared, plain and simple.

Anthony carefully maintained his distance as he padded into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "Do you want a beer?"

"Not yet." House answered. "Kind of need to focus here."

Anthony opened a beer for himself and pulled out a bottle of water for House. "Here, catch."

House easily caught the plastic bottle and held it in his hand, staring at the floor. The fear that had started when he entered the apartment threatened to take him over, and he could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming on.

"Greg?" Anthony's voice seemed very far away, and House closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the closed-in feeling from taking over. "Greg, talk to me."

"No." House shook his head. "I can't trust you."

Anthony moved just a little closer, just so he was close enough to touch House's hand if he reached out to him. House was gripping the bottle so tightly that Anthony thought he would crush it in his large hand.

Finally House seemed to calm himself, and he lifted his eyes to look at Anthony. He blinked and glanced around the room, seemingly surprised to be _here_, in Anthony's kitchen. "My God. You must think I'm an idiot."

"Of course I don't." Anthony relaxed and leaned against the counter once again, giving House his personal space.

"You should." House shook his head. "Here I am, in the middle of the damn night, in my ex...whatever's kitchen, trying to...I don't even know why I'm here."

Anthony pushed himself away from the counter and stood in front of House, taking the older man's free hand in his own, brushing his thumb over the back. "Just...relax. It'll come back to you."

House nodded, his thoughts churning in his head. "Think I'll take that beer now. Just the one, though."

A bit of the tension seemed to dissolve as Anthony passed the bottle and an opener to House. House quickly popped the top and drained half of it in one shot. Finally he set the bottle aside to focus on Anthony. "I love you, and I want to be with you." House glanced away as he nearly whispered the words that broke Anthony's heart. "I just can't trust you, not yet."

Anthony nodded in understanding. "So...what do we do?"

House simply leaned against the counter, deep in thought. Finally he lifted his head to meet Anthony's eyes. "We start over."

"Like...how?"

"Like...from the beginning." House rolled his eyes. Now that he heard the idea out loud, it sounded a little silly. "Jesus, we were only together for a month. Shouldn't be _that_ hard to start over."

Anthony started laughing softly despite himself. The idea was so crazy that it could work. "And how do you suggest we go about doing that?"

House reached out to take Anthony's hand, pulling the younger man close to him. "We...slow it down. Go out, do stuff. You know, _date_, like..." House twisted his mouth in consideration. "...normal couples do."

Anthony was a little giddy with the idea. "We're hardly a normal couple."

"Whatever." House leaned down to give Anthony a brief kiss. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do." Anthony reveled in the feel of House's lips on his. He was sure he would never feel that again. "So...are we...?"

"We're not okay yet." House told him. "But...we will be."

A full smile lit across Anthony's face. "Look at you, so strong and confident. Who are you and what have you done with Gregory House?"

House shrugged, that slight smile crossing his rough features. "You're looking at him. You like?"

"Not just like." Anthony answered. "_Love_."

The slight smile grew into a full on grin as House dipped down to capture Anthony's mouth in a deep, lingering kiss. They broke apart with a sigh on House's part. "I'm beat. Do you mind if I crash here?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Anthony laughed softly, even as tears started to form. "So I guess we'll start slowing things down...tomorrow?"

"Something like that." House was shaking slightly as the tension finally dissipated. He limped over to the door, digging his keys out of his coat. "Gotta go get my backpack out of the car."

Anthony looked incredulous. "You brought your backpack?! How did you know..."

"I didn't." House answered the unspoken question. "Figured it wouldn't hurt to be prepared."

Anthony merely shook his head as House closed the door behind him. He knew that House took few chances in his personal life. For him to make a leap like this...it was astounding.

The tears finally spilled over as Anthony found himself overwhelmed with relief and joy. House had found it in himself to give him another chance. Anthony was going to make damn sure he didn't do _anything_ to screw it up this time.

Outside the apartment, House carefully made his way down the stairs and out to his car. He stood outside for a long moment, looking up at the apartment with its one light on as the snow fell around him. It was something like a miracle, and House wasn't one to believe in miracles.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found Jake's number, getting his voice mail. "Hey, man, no need to call back. Just wanted to let you know that..." House paused before finishing the message. "...he didn't kill me."

He closed his phone and stuffed it back in his jeans pocket, pushing the button to unlock his doors and pulling out his backpack. It was only when he closed his car door that the enormity of what had just transpired hit him, and he leaned against the car, the tears coming hard and fast as the tension flowed out of him, leaving behind a feeling of calm that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

They had somehow gotten their second chance. Amazing. Now the time had come to make the most of it. Slowly, one step at a time, like they should have in the first place.

But that could wait until tomorrow. Right now, House had other ideas, and he was reasonably sure Anthony was on the same wavelength. He lumbered up the stairs, nearly tingling with anticipation. Make up sex had to be a hell of a lot better than the break up kind. House could hardly wait to find out.

# # #

House blew out a long sigh before he reentered Anthony's apartment, a fresh crop of doubts creeping into his mind. He was suddenly nervous now that they had decided to start fresh, and he wondered if he should be here at all.

He opened the door and strode through, dropping his backpack in its once familiar spot by the door long enough to hang up his coat and toe off his shoes. It was ridiculously late, and in all honesty, House was worn out, both physically and emotionally. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a nice warm bed with a nice warm Anthony. Yes, he could say that now. The thought warmed him as he limped heavily down the hallway with his backpack, tossing it into the bedroom.

Anthony emerged from the bathroom just as House headed back down the hallway, and House could sense the nervous energy between them. The younger man fixed House with a quick smile as he squeezed past, gently placing his hands on his waist.

The touch sent a shiver through House, and Anthony could hear the older man's breath catch in his throat. House reached up to lightly stroke Anthony's cheek, suddenly unsure of his next move.

Anthony made it for him, leaning in to capture House's lips with his own, his tongue darting in delicately to caress the inside of House's mouth. His hands slid from House's waist to the small of his back, finding their way up his t-shirt to the smooth skin beneath.

He moved his hands everywhere, spreading his fingers over every inch of skin he could reach, thrilling to the variety of soft sounds coming from House's throat. Dear God, he had missed this _so_ much. Anthony barely knew what he wanted to do next, simply touching House all over, pressing him against the wall while his hands moved from House's back to his stomach, roaming up his t-shirt through the wiry hair of his chest, finally pushing the shirt off his body.

Anthony's fingers traced over the contours of House's body, enjoying the curves of the muscles under the skin. "You've been working out?"

"PT." House managed to gasp out. "I'll tell you all about it...later..."

Anthony chuckled as he worked House's belt buckle loose and unbuttoned the older man's jeans, suddenly interested in the lower half of his body. If it looked anything like the upper half...

He was not disappointed. Anthony dropped to his knees in front of House, taking the older man's jeans and boxers along the way, caressing his beautifully sculpted thighs and calves all the way to the floor. "God, you beautiful, beautiful man." He softly whispered as he pressed a series of kisses near House's core, his hands wandering all over his legs.

House moaned softly at the feel of Anthony's lips and hands, and he grabbed one of the younger man's hands to place it directly over his scar. Anthony gently rubbed the area, and he could feel House relax under the touch.

He took the older man into his mouth, House roughly caressing his head, encouraging him, directing him. No longer content to merely accept what was given, House was more vocal, arching into Anthony's mouth as the younger man rolled his tongue over and around him.

House shifted slightly, moving from stroking the top of Anthony's head to his chin, tilting it upward slightly. "Get up here."

Anthony let House slide out of his mouth and allowed the older man to pull him to his feet. House immediately pulled him in, gripping him by the back of his neck for a long, tender, yet rough kiss. There was a flurry of activity as House quickly stripped Anthony of his t-shirt and sleep pants, pulling him in so that their bodies were pressed together.

House slipped a hand in between, taking both of them in one hand and stroking, slowly at first, then steadily increasing the speed before backing off and starting the cycle again. He spread out his other hand along Anthony's back, keeping him firmly pulled in as he broke away from the younger man's mouth to the tender flesh just under his jaw.

Anthony gasped in surprise and delight at the touch, tilting his chin up for more of the same, and House continued in that vein until Anthony's body tensed as he wrapped himself more fully around House.

"Dammit...Greg...don't...stop..." Anthony went over, relaxing against House for a moment before taking over, smoothly stroking the older man while moving in to lightly caress his collarbone with his tongue, a move at once familiar and new.

House wrapped his arms and one leg around Anthony, holding him close as he tensed and went over the edge, collapsing against Anthony's shoulder, panting from exertion. Finally he lifted his head, slowly opening his eyes and leaning slightly against the wall.

"Are you okay?" Anthony asked softly.

House looked a bit stunned as he blinked and nodded. "I think so."

Anthony sighed and leaned into House, wrapping his arms around the older man and setting his head on his shoulder. House caressed the back of his head, his fingers playing with the soft hair while the other arm stayed wrapped around his waist, their breathing the only sound in the hallway. Right now, words just seemed...unnecessary. Everything had been said that needed to be said that night, and even though there were questions left unanswered, they were questions better answered after a few hours sleep.

They curled against each other not much later after a shared warm shower in their familiar position, with House curled up behind Anthony, his warm breath hitting the back of his neck and his arm around the younger man's waist. In Anthony's mind, nothing felt so right as this. He felt the lump in his throat and the tears start to well up again as he took House's hand in his own, lacing his fingers with the older man's.

House heard the hitch in Anthony's throat, and he kissed the back of the younger man's neck, taking a long inhale of the crisp scent that he'd never been able to forget. "No more crying, okay? You start, then I'll start, then we'll never get any damn sleep."

"Can't help it." Anthony choked out softly. "I just...I thought for sure we were done for good."

"Me too." House replied, his voice equally soft. "But the next time you pull something stupid like that, we _are_ done. Got it?"

"There won't be a next time." Anthony turned over so that he faced House, stroking his face. "I'm done hanging out in the dance clubs."

"That's not what I'm saying." House pulled Anthony closer. "You should be able to go out and have a good time without me. I'm just saying...no more of _that_."

"It's easier to stay away from the source of temptation." Anthony asserted. "I'm getting too old for all that anyway. I can't keep up with those kids."

"Just as well." House murmured, kissing the younger man's forehead. He wasn't quite ready to mention Jake yet, whom he knew was even younger than Anthony, easily by a good ten years.

He smiled slightly to himself at the way the much younger man had introduced himself at that medical conference after the ridiculously boring lecture. He, Wilson, and Jake had lunch that day, and when Wilson had run into an old colleague later on, he and Jake had dinner alone.

Wilson had been beside himself with worry when House came casually striding into the hotel room the next morning, slightly dazed from lack of sleep and wearing the previous night's clothes. House had to admit that Wilson's reaction had been nothing short of hilarious, all moving eyebrows and dropped jaws.

It had been a fun ride with Jake, no question. Had House not impulsively invited him back to his apartment last night, the fun might have continued for however long it might have lasted. Months, maybe. Weeks seemed more likely.

House decided he'd rather have the youngish man that laid on his arm right now. As Jake had somewhat sadly pointed out, Anthony had House's heart. As long as that was the case, no one else stood a chance.

As House fell asleep, he made a mental note to call up Jake to thank him for what he had done. He hoped Jake still wanted to continue as friends. House knew he could always use a few more of those. It was his last thought as he closed his eyes and fell into something like a peaceful slumber for what felt like the first time in ages.

# # #

House opened his eyes to find himself alone. He lay there for a few minutes, trying to put together all the events of the previous night.

This wasn't his bed, he knew that. Beyond that, he wasn't sure of much of anything. Finally he pushed himself to a sitting position and threw back the covers, shivering in the slight chill of the room. As he looked around, things started to come back into focus.

This was Anthony's room. House reached out for the small bedside lamp and flicked it on, throwing a soft light over the room as he reached for his glasses and shoved them on his face. It was easier to figure things out now that he could actually see.

House's backpack was near the bedroom door, and his clothes were in a crumpled pile nearby. House wrapped a blanket around himself and limped over to the open backpack, digging out a pair of sleep pants and picking through the pile for last night's t-shirt.

As he pulled the t-shirt over his head, his nose detected the blend of his and Anthony's scents, and the memory came rushing back to him. He and Anthony hadn't even made it as far as the bedroom before their long buried emotions overtook them in the hallway, and again later in the shower.

House's heart beat a quick tattoo in his chest as he wrapped the blanket around himself after dressing and limped down the hallway. The apartment was eerily quiet, and House found a mug, dumping sugar in it before filling the mug and taking a long drink. He leaned against the counter with both hands wrapped around the mug and the blanket around his shoulders. Now that the initial emotional storm between them had passed, House wasn't sure where they went from here. He had never gone slow with anyone, and now House was starting to question the idea.

He sighed and pushed off the counter, limping into the living room, pausing at the door to the balcony. Anthony was out there in a thick fleece shirt and jeans, drinking from a still steaming mug as the snow fell in thick flakes.

House set his mug on the dining room table and shoved his feet into shoes before sliding open the balcony door. "Kind of cold to be standing around outside, don't you think?"

Anthony turned at the sound of House's voice, smiling slightly when he saw the older man wrapped up in a blanket. "It's not that bad, actually. And the view's not too bad either." He gestured with his coffee mug.

House limped out onto the balcony until he was right behind Anthony, setting his chin on the younger man's shoulder to look out onto the street. The street was shrouded in white as the snow continued to fall, the individual flakes visible in the streetlamps. It was eerily quiet, the snow muffling the sounds of the occasional car that drove by in the semi-darkness of the early morning. "The view looks pretty damn fine from here." House murmured, planting a soft kiss on the side of Anthony's neck.

Anthony turned, setting his mug down on the small patio table before slipping his arms around House's waist and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. House wrapped the blanket around both of them, pulling the younger man to him with a soft sigh.

Anthony settled into the crook of House's neck, the warmth of the older man's body and the blanket that was wrapped around them seeping into him. "How are you?" He asked softly, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.

"Not sure yet." House answered. "Part of me thinks this isn't real, and that I'll wake up drunk and alone again."

"Right there with you." Anthony's voice caught in his throat at the image. "There were times that...I'd fall asleep, and I could swear you were right there, all wrapped up around me...I'd wake up, and I was alone, or with someone I didn't recognize."

"I tried to climb into the bottle for a few days." House responded. "Turns out I don't fit into it very well."

Anthony had to laugh, even though the subject itself wasn't so funny. House continued, "When I didn't show up for three days, Cuddy sent Chase after me. Guess she thought Wilson would be too easy on me."

"So what happened?"

"Chase and Wilson tag teamed me, or so I heard. I don't remember much of it." House's voice went soft at the memory. "Let's just say that alcohol poisoning is a very bad thing. I don't recommend it."

"My God." Anthony reached up to place a hand on House's cheek, pressing his face to the other one. "Greg, if I'd known..."

"Stop." House voice was soft, but sharp. "You didn't hold a gun to my head and tell me to drink myself into oblivion. I did that to myself." He turned slightly to kiss Anthony on the cheek. "It's over and done, and I've found better ways to cope, so it's all good."

"Did you?"

"Yep." House answered. "Chase started hanging out with me when Wilson couldn't. It was weird, but kind of cool. He's a pretty good guy."

"That's good." Anthony was relieved to know that House didn't completely fall apart after the break-up. "I wish I could say I did so well without you."

"Do tell."

Anthony took a deep breath before telling his side of things. "I went right back to the bar scene. Usually went home alone, but not always. I woke up a few times in some stranger's bed." He shook his head at his own foolishness. "A couple of them wanted to know who this Greg guy was and why I called them that."

House had to smile a little at that. "Try answering that when a woman asks you."

Anthony's eyes went wide with shock. "You didn't."

"I did." House affirmed. "In her defense, she was going down on me at the time."

"That's terrible." Anthony couldn't help but laugh. "I shouldn't laugh, but...you know."

"It is kind of funny." House agreed. "One of the hazards of being bi, I guess."

"Did she know you were...into guys?"

"Yeah." House shrugged. "I told her on our first...well, our only date. She hung up on me when I tried to call her for a second one."

"Ouch. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm over it. Makes for a good story, though." A strong breeze blew up, and House pulled the blanket a little tighter around them as the semi-darkness gave way to gray light. "Anyway...so you were screaming out my name in bed with these guys..."

"Yeah, about that." Anthony sighed against House. "Not much more to tell. Simon was mortified by my behavior, gave me all kinds of hell for screwing up what you and I had, and quit speaking to me for a while. He told me to call him when I managed to pull my head out of my ass."

"Man's got some nerve." House could feel the anger rising in himself. "He's the one that dragged you out to the club in the first place."

"True, but he didn't make me dance with that boy or anything else. That was all me, and I could have put a stop to it before it even got that far."

The 'or anything else' part caught House's ear, and he just had to know more. "What do you mean, 'or anything else'?"

Anthony sighed. He knew this was going to come up. Best to get it all out now before things went any further between he and House. "I told the kid just one dance, then he had to find someone else to play with. He kind of had a thing for older guys, I guess."

House snorted. "Freak."

"Right." Anthony chuckled ironically. "Anyway, a slow song started just as we went out there, he got...close, and my body just...reacted. Freaked me out." He looked up to catch House's reaction. So far, nothing. "I must have set a speed record for getting off that dance floor when the song ended. I just wanted to get away, because I knew what would happen if I didn't. I explained to him that I had someone I cared about, and that one dance would turn into more if I didn't put a stop to it right then. He...gave me his number and told me if things went south between you and me, to call him."

House let the story sink in, considering the possibility that he might have overreacted to things. "So...did you ever call him?"

"I did." Anthony admitted. "We went out a few times. Nice kid, but kind of a flake. He's no you, that's for damn sure."

"Is that right?" House regarded Anthony skeptically.

"That's right." Anthony planted a soft kiss on House's lips. "No one I have met since we've been apart has been as interesting, complex, fascinating, or beautiful as you."

House felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and Anthony laughed softly in response. "You're so cute when you blush."

House rolled his eyes and quickly changed the subject. "It's possible that I...overreacted to your...thing."

"I think you reacted appropriately for _you_." Anthony answered. "Anyone else and I would have thought they were being oversensitive. You're different. You already had trust issues, and I had worked so hard to earn any trust from you. In your mind, I _did_ cheat on you." He held House a little tighter, pressing his body fully against House. "And that's what I'm truly sorry for. I broke your trust, and I want to earn that back more than anything else in the world."

"I believe you." House answered softly, a lump growing in his throat at Anthony's words. This is what he had been waiting to hear. "It's not okay, but I do believe you." He kissed the younger man's temple. "And I forgive you."

They both fell apart then, wrapped in each other's arms, a great weight finally lifted as the morning light crept across the balcony. "I love you." Anthony whispered, capturing the older man's lips in a long, soft, sweet kiss.

House was thinking the same thing as he responded in kind, keeping his arms and the blanket wrapped around them, sinking deeply into the warmth that both the blanket and Anthony's body offered. They broke apart, and Anthony could see that familiar gleam in House's eyes. "What time is it?"

Anthony quickly checked his watch. "It's only 7:30."

"Good. This might take a while." House pulled Anthony toward him on his way to the balcony door, keeping the blanket wrapped around them. He led them to the open space that connected the living room and dining area, taking the blanket and spreading it out on the floor. "Lay down. I'll be right back."

House soon returned with a pillow and a couple of small objects in his hand. He tucked the pillow under Anthony's head and placed a pair of condoms and the bottle of lube nearby.

Anthony's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Got big plans?"

"Never know." One side of House's mouth turned up in response, and Anthony's heart flipped a little at the sight. The man was so handsome when he smiled. He hoped to see that a lot more often now.

House eased himself down to lay beside Anthony, propping himself up on one elbow as he moved a hand under Anthony's shirt, caressing the warm skin underneath. His bright blue eyes studied the younger man's face, watching his reactions as he moved his hand all over, brushing his fingers over his nipples.

The younger man gasped in response, his green eyes fluttering closed at the unexpected touch. House shifted to straddle him, careful to keep most of his weight on his left leg. The right was much better due to the PT he had started doing again, but it still paid to be careful. House didn't exactly have a timeframe in mind for the young man that was squirming under him.

He slid both hands under Anthony's shirt, pushing both the fleece and the t-shirt underneath up and off his body as Anthony raised his arms over his head. Now that House could see Anthony, he could see the contours of the younger man's body, and he smoothed his hands over each one, thrilling to the feel of the muscle under his smooth skin, running his fingers through the light sprinkling of dark brown hair that covered his chest and stomach.

Anthony reached up, slipping his hands under House's own t-shirt, gripping the hem and pulling it over House's head as the older man bent down slightly, tossing it aside to join Anthony's. House undid Anthony's belt with deliberate slowness, undoing each button of his button-fly jeans with a small smile. "Didn't think they made these anymore."

"I've had them for years." Anthony answered softly. "Just started wearing them again."

"They work for you." House replied with a teasing look. "Right now, though...I'd rather see them _off _you."

Both men shifted, and House soon stripped Anthony's jeans and boxers off him, leaving them in a pile at his feet. House returned to straddle him, leaning over the younger man for a deep, seductive kiss.

Anthony moaned softly, wrapping his arms around House and pulling him close, wrapping one leg around him. House started moving against him, and he could feel Anthony's reaction under him.

The younger man quickly untied House's sleep pants, shoving them off his body, using his feet to push them off the rest of the way to join Anthony's jeans. House broke from Anthony's lips, starting a trail of kisses just under his chin, continuing down his throat. He pressed a soft kiss to the space between his collarbones before continuing his slow, sweet journey down his chest and stomach, ending at his waist.

The older man nuzzled the hair surrounding Anthony's core before gently taking him in his hand and slowly closing his mouth over him, deliberately working over him with his tongue as the younger man groaned, caressing the top of House's head.

House slid one hand further down as the other roamed over Anthony's stomach and chest. He lightly touched the younger man, slipping the tip of his finger just inside, evoking a sharp gasp. Encouraged, House broke away just long enough to find the bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount on his fingers before continuing.

Anthony was perilously close to going over the edge, arching into House's mouth, and House suddenly broke away, shifting so that he lay next to Anthony. "Roll over." He whispered, and Anthony started to turn over on his stomach until House stopped him with one hand while he was on his side. "Right there."

He reached over Anthony for one of the condoms, ripping it open and covering himself before pressing against the younger man, wrapping an arm around his waist and slowly entering him with a soft moan, leaving a flurry of soft kisses on the back of his neck as he found his rhythm.

House pressed one leg between Anthony's legs, moving his hand down to stroke him while he continued to rock against the younger man, bringing them both to the edge and over.

They lay quietly for a long moment, both of them attempting to recover. Finally House pressed a kiss to Anthony as he pulled out. "Be right back."

He soon returned, and Anthony had rolled over to his back, thoroughly spent. House smirked to himself and eased himself down to lay beside him, running the warm washcloth over the younger man, much to his surprise and delight. "Mmm...thanks."

House shrugged. "Seems like the least I could do."

Anthony laughed softly. "If that's the least you can do...I don't think I could handle the most." He turned over on his side to face House. "Thank you."

House frowned. "For what?"

"For...this, for giving me...us another chance."

"Just so long as you understand that this _is_ it." House fixed him with a soft glare before capturing Anthony's lips in a soft kiss.

"I do." Anthony nodded firmly.

"Good." House's rough face softened into a small smile. "In that case, you're welcome. And thank you."

"Again, for what?"

"For stalking...I mean, not giving up on me."

Anthony responded with a quick kiss. "You're worth it."

House looked amused. "Seems I've been hearing that a lot lately."

Anthony looked puzzled, but didn't ask further. He simply curled against House, enjoying his warmth for a few more minutes before he had to return to the real world. This was right and good. He couldn't believe they had nearly thrown this away, but Anthony knew he was going to do his damnedest to not let it happen again. Somewhere out there, someone else knew House's value, too, and he couldn't bear to let anyone else take advantage of that.

For his part, House felt an overwhelming sense of relief at the way things had transpired. He was once again with the man he loved, even as he felt a small twinge of guilt for ending things with Jake. The young man would be okay, House was sure of that, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for his willingness to put his personal feelings aside to help House regain what he had lost. He pulled Anthony in close, knowing that no one else could do for him what this man had, and no one else had such a hold on his heart. For the time being, at least, House felt this was right where he belonged, and it was a marvelous feeling, one that he never wanted to give up.

# # #

**All yours now, dear readers. Read and review. **


	51. Chapter 51

**You know the drill. I don't own anything but the O/Cs.**

# # #

House limped around the apartment not much later, collecting any and all of his personal items and shoving them in his backpack. If he and Anthony were starting from scratch, he wanted to give himself no wiggle room in whatever agreement he might reach with the younger man.

Anthony could hear House rambling around, muttering to himself. For some reason it always brought a smile to his face. He pulled out his travel mug, pausing for a moment before reaching up into the cabinet for the one House always used, filling it with sugar and coffee. If the older man wanted it, great. If not, well...no harm done.

He smelled House before he saw him, and he heard the older man dump his backpack on the floor before he placed a hand at Anthony's waist and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek. "One of those mine?"

Anthony mentally sighed in relief as he handed the mug to House. "Of course." He paused before speaking again, trying to be casual. "You can have my key back too, if you want it."

House froze briefly as he placed the travel mug in his backpack, looking thoughtful before shaking his head. "No. Not yet." He rose to grasp the younger man's upper arm gently, noting the slightly crestfallen expression on his face. "Look, if we're going to start this...thing from scratch, it just makes sense to start at the beginning." He pressed a kiss to Anthony's temple. "My feelings haven't changed. I just don't want to do anything to fuck this up, that's all."

Anthony couldn't help but chuckle a little. House was right, and he knew it. "This is going to be a little harder than I thought." He reached behind him slightly to place a hand on House's cheek. "I don't want to screw this up either. More than I already have, I mean."

House groaned slightly. "Let it go, will you? We're working with a clean slate here."

Anthony turned to take in the man that stood before him. House seemed to stand taller, stronger, and not merely in the physical sense. Something deeper had changed in him in their time apart, and Anthony found himself feeling grateful to whoever had helped bring those changes around.

The man he had met in the bar three months prior seemed...a bit beaten down, defeated even. Over the course of their brief relationship, House had taken baby steps, but was clearly still standing on shaky ground emotionally. That was evident in the state House had been in when they had...parted ways. Anthony still couldn't come out and say they had broken up.

He didn't know what he expected to see in House's office that day after his meeting with Wilson. To say he was surprised was an understatement. Anthony was less surprised at House's reaction to his presence. He still didn't know what kept him coming back, what kept him continuing to pursue House, even when he'd made it clear he wanted nothing to do with him.

Anthony supposed it didn't matter now. House had found it in him to let him back in, and however the older man wanted to handle that, that's what Anthony was going to do. It was times like this that his own 'go with the flow' personality came in handy, because House was usually anything but.

The sound of House's chiming phone jerked him out of his thoughts as House dug it out of his jeans pocket and flipped it open to answer. "House."

"Hey, man." Jake's deep voice rang out. "Just got your voice mail. Congratulations."

House's voice broke into a full grin. "Yeah. Guess I should amend that." He glanced at Anthony, who regarded him with a questioning look. House held up one finger and continued. "He almost killed me, but not like that...if you know what I mean."

Anthony could hear the other man howl in laughter. "Dude, you're nuts. That's cool. All's well that ends well, right?"

"Something like that." House met Anthony's eyes, suddenly turning serious. "We've got a ways to go, but...we're off to a good start."

"That's...good." Jake smiled on the other end as he packed his bag and found his key card. "Would he be upset if I asked you to meet me for coffee before I bail out of here?"

"Hold on." House put one hand over the speaker of his phone. "He wants to meet for coffee before he heads back. Are you okay with that?"

Anthony looked puzzled. "Of course."

House nodded briefly before putting the phone back to his ear. "Guess I'll meet you. Where?"

"Coffee kiosk in the lobby will work." Jake answered. "See you in a few."

"See you." House snapped his phone closed and shoved it back in his pocket, throwing a questioning look at Anthony. "You know this is the guy I was doing just before...us, right?"

"I know." Anthony shoved his hands in his pockets. "Was this the medical conference guy?"

"Yeah." House limped forward a few steps so that he was directly in front of Anthony, placing a hand on the younger man's cheek, his voice taking on a softer tone. "He's also the guy who pushed me back to you."

"Well then." Anthony smiled a little and covered House's hand with his own. "He can't be that bad, can he?"

"He's a good guy." House answered. "You should come with me and meet him."

"Not this time." Anthony shook his head. "You two should have your time together."

House rolled his eyes. "I'm just meeting him for coffee, not banging him. Not sure I'd have the energy for all that anyway."

Anthony snorted and squeezed House's hand. "That's not what I meant, you nitwit." He took a small breath, corralling his thoughts before continuing. "I mean...you were lovers, and yes, I know you hate that word, but it's true. I don't know how you want that to end, but you should take a chance to say goodbye to that part of it."

House frowned in thought, feeling a little conflicted. "What if I said I wanted to keep him as a friend?"

A wide smile crossed Anthony's face. "I think that would be a wonderful thing. You could always use a few more of those."

"You think it's possible?"

Anthony laughed softly. "I _know _it is. Look at me and Simon."

House had forgotten Anthony's history with Simon. He slowly nodded as he dropped a quick kiss on the younger man's lips. "Guess I'll go meet him, then."

"Good." Anthony released House's hand. "I would like to meet this guy...eventually. Sounds like I owe him a great deal."

A slight smile played around House's lips at the idea. "I think you'd like him." He put on his coat, hitching the backpack over his shoulder and grabbing his cane, pausing before he opened the apartment door. "Would you like to meet for lunch?"

Anthony folded his arms over his chest. "Doctor Gregory House, are you asking me out on a _date_?"

The slight smile grew into a full grin that lit up House's rough face. "Yes, I am. So?"

Anthony crossed the room to meet House at the door, squeezing his upper arms and planting a soft kiss on his lips. "I would love to. Usual time and place?"

"Sounds good." House internally sighed in relief. "See you around."

"Bye."

House closed the door behind him, and Anthony leaned against it, still amazed at all that had transpired. Whoever this man was, he obviously held a place in House's life. Anthony was curious about him, and hoped the transition from lovers to friends would go as smoothly for them as it finally had for he and Simon.

Speaking of...Anthony realized that he hadn't talked to his longtime friend since House's reappearance. He found his phone, quickly dialing the number. Simon was going to flip out when he found out about this. Suddenly Anthony couldn't wait for his reaction.

# # #

House limped into the hotel lobby, spotting Jake near the coffee kiosk in the middle of the large space. The younger man already held two large coffees, and his face lit in a wide grin at the sight of House.

He met Jake at a table near the kiosk, easing into a chair as Jake sat across from him. House took two packets of sugar and dumped them into his cup, stirring before replacing the lid and taking a long drink. Not nearly as good as Anthony's, but it would do until he got to work.

Jake eyed the older man carefully as he wrapped his hands around the paper cup, waiting for an opening. "So...?"

House threw Jake an amused look. "What?"

"What's the word?" Jake took a sip of his coffee as he studied House's face. It looked softer somehow, more relaxed, and Jake could guess at why.

"I'm not giving you all the dirty details." House glared at the younger man, who gave him a look of mock innocence.

"I didn't expect any such thing." Jake responded. "I was just...you know, making sure everything went like you wanted it to."

"I told you that over the phone." House gave him a baffled look. "Why did you need to hear it in person?"

"Not sure." Jake shrugged and took a long drink of his coffee. This was becoming a little more awkward than he had bargained for. Maybe he should have just gone home as he had originally planned.

House blew out a long sigh to break the awkward silence between them. "Look, I know things didn't exactly go like they planned..."

"It's okay." Jake answered quickly.

"Is it?"

"Yeah." Jake looked thoughtful. "It is. I got to play music, which I haven't done in ages, I got to hang out with you and get to know you a little bit, and...I got to play matchmaker. Pretty productive night, I'd say."

"But not what you originally came here for." House studied the young man's face, looking for any hint of a lie on his part, and finding none.

A slow smile curved across Jake's youthful features, his soft blue eyes dancing teasingly. "I got a little of that, too, unless you've already forgotten."

No, House hadn't forgotten. While he wasn't in love with Jake by any means, that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the more physical aspects of their brief fling. "So you're okay with all this?"

Jake tilted his head, finally nodding in response. "You got what you wanted. How can I not be okay with that?"

House frowned slightly as he recalled the young man's words to him just the night before as he had worried about Anthony rejecting him. _You respect the other person's wishes...it's not easy, but it is simple._ "So this is you respecting my wishes."

Jake smiled. "Ah, he finally gets it." He reached across the table to take House's hand in his, brushing the back of it with his thumb. "Yes, that's exactly it."

"That's very...self-sacrificing of you." House lightly squeezed Jake's hand in return. "Thanks. And...Tony thanks you, too."

"He'd damn well better." Jake laughed softly as he pulled away to drain the last of his coffee. "I'll kick his ass if he does you wrong again."

"You and a few other people, I think." House's eyes crinkled in amusement, and Jake's stomach flipped reflexively. "Well...I've got a case still waiting for me, and you've got a road trip ahead of you."

"Yep." Jake rose from his seat and picked up his duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "Guess I'd better get going. Mind if I walk with you?"

"Only if you don't mind going slow." House waved his cane around.

"Fine with me." Jake fell into step with the older man. "Gives me a little more time with you."

House snorted as they walked. "Crazy damn kid."

They soon arrived at House's car, and House tapped his cane on the snow covering the parking lot. "So, when's your next day off?"

Jake's mouth twisted in thought. "Don't know yet. You still want to see me?"

House shrugged. "I'd still like to hang out with you. You know, friends without the benefits."

Jake chuckled at that, looking down at the ground. "I think...maybe it'd be better if we got together after the holidays. Kind of have a lot going on."

House was a little disappointed, but nodded. "When you're ready, give me a call. I've got a pretty decent couch for you to crash on."

"Think your boyfriend will be okay with that?"

"Yeah, I think so." House held out his hand for the young man to shake. "See you around?"

"You can do better than that." Jake laughed and wrapped the older man in a warm hug. House slowly responded in kind, and Jake took in his woodsy scent, wanting to hold on to the moment and commit it to memory. He pulled back slightly, looking up at House's rough face. "Just one more thing."

"What's that?"

"I'd like a...goodbye kiss. Just one." Jake spoke carefully, not sure how House would take the idea. "And not one of those little pecks, either."

House frowned suspiciously. "Why?"

Jake had a hard time explaining his logic. "It's like...closing one door, and opening another."

House nodded, slowly understanding. He bent down to meet Jake's lips with his own, and he could feel the younger man tease with his tongue, gently parting House's lips to dart inside to tangle sweetly with the older man's. There was a soft sigh, and House couldn't tell whether it was him or Jake that made the sound. Probably both of them.

House could feel his body react, and he broke the kiss, breathing heavily in its wake. Jake looked up at him with a soft look, his blue eyes a little darker, and House knew he had felt something as well.

Jake left one more brief kiss on House's lips before pulling away and shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "And that's why I want to wait a while before I see you again. What we had for a while was damned hot, and...it's going to be tough to be just friends with you."

"Sorry." House mumbled, not daring to look Jake in the eye.

"I'm not." Jake took one of House's hands in his own. "It's been a great thing, and we're going to be good friends in time. I don't regret a goddamn thing, and you shouldn't either." He squeezed House's hand briefly before releasing it. "Have a good Christmas. I'll call you in January."

"You too." House leaned against his car as he watched the young man walk away, casually trotting across the parking lot. He waved to House as he unlocked his car and started it, driving away.

House huffed to himself before climbing in his car and starting it, sitting in thought for a moment as it warmed up. He still wondered what might have happened had House not lost his nerve with Jake the night before.

There was no point in obsessing over it, House decided as he pulled out of his space and drove toward PPTH. He and Anthony were starting a new chapter, and if Jake somehow became a part of that down the line, all the better. In the meantime, there was still a case to solve and a lunch date to look forward to.

_Date._ House smiled at the thought. He couldn't wait to see Wilson's reaction to the news of his and Anthony's reconciliation. He already had visions of flying eyebrows and jaws clanging to the floor. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

# # #

Three heads jerked up as one around the conference room table as House shoved open his office door. Foreman checked his watch, arching an eyebrow. "He's late."

"No." Taub intoned. "He's here at his normal time. He's just been coming in so early that it seems like he's late."

Foreman frowned slightly as he observed his boss hanging up his coat and digging into his backpack, producing an oddly familiar travel mug. "Something's...going on."

Thirteen glanced up just as House opened the mug and took a long drink. The older doctor seemed...relaxed, for lack of a better word. "So he's having a good morning. Let it go."

"Good morning, Angels." House's booming baritone filled the room as he pushed through the door that separated his office from the conference room. "And how are things this fine morning?"

Taub's eyebrows shot up, Foreman threw House a baffled look, and Thirteen looked at House slightly wide-eyed. House glanced at all three faces with a mock innocent look. "What? It's a beautiful day, birds are singing...well, I'm sure they're singing somewhere...and our patient is..." House took a quick look at the updated chart. "...still alive. Life's good. So, where were we?"

House turned toward his whiteboard, making a few notes as the three doctors all looked at each other. This wasn't the false bravado that House had so often put on in an attempt to convince his team that all was well. House was in a genuinely good mood, and none of them knew what to do with that. "I don't hear any...differentialling back there. Come on, kids, throw me a bone here."

The team returned to looking over the chart, and soon they were back to throwing around various ideas. Taub suggested a heart issue, and House sent he and Thirteen to start an echocardiogram, leaving he and Foreman alone in the room.

"Something's up with you." Foreman opined.

House smirked to himself, still facing the whiteboard. "Something _was_ up. Now, not so much."

Foreman rolled his eyes. "So you got laid. Big deal. That's not exactly a rare event." His eyes flicked to the travel mug that sat on the table. "That looks kind of familiar."

"Does it?" House's tone was all mock innocence.

"It does." Foreman leaned back in his chair with a smug expression.

"Huh. Interesting." House's phone sang Chicago's 'Beginnings', and House quickly pulled it out of his pocket to answer the incoming text. He had never bothered to change the text tone, figuring he'd never hear from Anthony again.

_Running late for lunch. 2:00 better?_

House smiled a little as he typed back an answer. _2:00's good. See you then._

The phone sang again, and House flipped it open. _Good deal. Love you. :)_

House's heart melted a little at the reply, and he typed back his response. _Love you too, you numbnut. :)_

He tucked the phone back into his pocket, looking up to see Foreman still looking at him with that insufferably smug expression on his face. "What?!"

"Nothing." Foreman chuckled, putting the pieces together. "Thought you and that Tony guy were done."

House rolled his eyes, blushing ever so slightly, and Foreman knew he'd figured it out. "Well, we're...not. There. Happy?"

"Yep." Foreman rose from the chair to pour another cup of coffee. "And so are you, apparently."

House snorted. "You're a real asshole, you know that?"

Foreman shrugged. "You pay me to solve puzzles. Don't be mad just because I solved one of a non-medical nature."

House's response was cut off as his and Foreman's pagers started going off. House shut his off with a glare at Foreman. "We'll pick this up later."

"Right." Foreman chuckled a little as he followed House out of the conference room. A flustered House was an unusual sight, and not one he was likely to see again soon. He wished he'd had a camera to capture the moment.

They soon reached the patient's room, where Taub and Thirteen were discussing the case just outside the room. Taub handed House the results of the echo. "Not a heart issue. Heart looks fine."

"Do a contrast scan." House frowned as he looked over the films.

"Can't until the patient stabilizes." Taub informed him. "Even then, it's risky."

They discussed the case for a while longer when the patient's heart monitor alarm started screeching. The four of them rushed into the room, where the patient's heart rate had climbed to an alarming 180 bpm.

House scowled in thought as the other doctors scrambled to stabilize her. "Hold on." Thirteen and Taub both paused. "Scan her now."

Foreman looked at House as if he'd lost his mind. "She's not stable. It could kill her."

"It's our only shot at seeing this thing in action." House spoke sharply. "Do it."

Thirteen and Taub quickly prepared the scan, injecting the contrast material and starting the scan. Soon the issue presented itself, and Foreman looked at the screen in wide-eyed wonder. "It's a tumor."

"Yep." House's eyes gleamed with the joy of solving the mystery. "Get her stabilized and hand her over to Oncology. I'm heading back upstairs. Got a hot date."

Foreman glanced at his watch. "It's only 11:00."

House gave Foreman an exasperated look. "You know it takes me _forever_ to get ready. I don't even know what I'm going to wear yet."

Thirteen hid a smirk behind her hand as both Taub and Foreman rolled their eyes. After House left and the patient was stabilized, the three of them started back towards the fourth floor, chatting idly as they stepped onto the elevator.

"So..." Foreman started. "I wonder who House has this hot date with."

"Does it matter?" Taub arched an eyebrow as he looked over the chart.

"Just curious, that's all." Foreman tilted his head in thought. "Anyone else think that coffee mug looked familiar?"

Thirteen patted Foreman on the arm. "I think you're obsessing for no good reason. You're as bad as House."

Foreman glared at Thirteen as the trio stepped off the elevator at the fourth floor and headed toward Diagnostics. Thirteen took the chart from Taub and entered House's office.

"Chart's ready to be signed off." Thirteen set the chart on the desk, noting the travel mug. "Nice mug."

House stroked his chin. "You think so? Oh, you _literally _meant the mug." House picked it up and drained the remains. "Pretty fond of it myself. Did you have a point buried in there somewhere?"

"No, no point." Thirteen smiled mysteriously. "Just...enjoy your date."

House scowled. "Tell your boyfriend to keep his big mouth shut."

Thirteen nodded as she watched House sign off on the chart and push himself out of the chair. "I'll take it to Wilson if you'd like."

"Nope." House told her. "Got some business with him anyway."

House strode out of the office, and Thirteen thought she detected something different about his walk. He'd been walking a little stronger and straighter since the PT she knew he'd been doing, but there was more to it today, of that she was certain.

She smiled to herself as she returned to the conference room. If her boss was happy, it couldn't be a bad thing. No, not at all.

# # #

A loud rap at Wilson's door made the younger oncologist jerk his head up from the file he was working on. "It's open!"

The door opened, and House limped in, a file folder in his hand. He casually tossed it on Wilson's desk. "All yours now. We found a tumor on her heart."

"Thanks." Wilson took the file and gave it a quick look. "Everything okay?"

"Couldn't be better." House answered, leaning on his cane. "Why?"

"You just seem...different today, that's all."

House debated letting Wilson in on what he hoped would eventually prove to be his good news. He tapped his cane against the floor before finally taking a seat in front of Wilson's desk. "Tony and I...sort of got back together."

"What?!" Wilson could hardly believe his ears. "When?"

"Last night. Actually it was more like early this morning." House looked ponderous.

"Wait a minute." Wilson leaned forward, shaking his finger at House. "I thought you were still getting together with Jake. What the hell happened?"

House shrugged. "Things changed."

"I guess they did." Wilson's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "So now what? Everything's back to normal now?"

House sighed at that. "I don't know. I guess we'll figure it out. I'm having lunch with him today. We're going to try this..._dating_ thing instead of rushing back into things."

Wilson smiled at the man that sat in front of him. "Sounds like a good plan. So is Lillian's party one of those dates?"

"Maybe." House pushed himself out of the chair. "I'll ask him. See you around."

"See you." Wilson returned to his file. "Hey, you busy tonight?"

"Don't think so. Why?"

"I've got some more of that _telenovela_ on the DVR if you're interested."

House's eyes lit up with interest. "I'll bring the beer. Eight work for you?"

"Sure thing. See you then."

The office door closed behind House, and Wilson let a full grin take over his face. He considered keeping this bit of news to himself, but at the same time...part of the reason Michaels had invited both House and Anthony was to try to get them back together. Might as well let her in on what was happening.

Wilson hoped that this was it for House. Despite all the good he had done for himself over the last couple of months, the older man had seemed a bit lost without Anthony. Perhaps now they could rebuild things, maybe even make it stronger than it had been. In Wilson's mind, that was a great thing.

# # #

**All yours now. Read and review. :)**


	52. Chapter 52

**Sorry for the delay, folks. RL has been kicking my butt this week. As usual, I don't own any of them.**

# # #

The ringing of the bell over the door jerked Anthony's attention away from his book. He could feel his heart beat a little quicker when he spotted House's figure limp through, the light snow dusting his shoulders.

House caught his eye, and made his way over to the booth with a slight smile. The older man took off his coat and shoved it into the booth before sliding into the booth, absentmindedly rubbing his thigh as he did so. If Anthony didn't know better, he'd almost think House was nervous. Not quite as nervous as their very first meeting here, but definitely a little edgy.

Anthony set his book aside and reached across the table with an open hand, palm up, and House paused briefly before taking it, curving his long fingers around it and squeezing lightly. The tension seemed to dissolve between them, and Anthony could almost see House relax ever so slightly as he brushed his thumb over Anthony's hand.

"Hey you." Anthony smiled warmly. "Glad you made it."

"Yep." House smiled back ever so slightly. "Thought my case was going to hold me up, we managed to wrap it up."

"That's good." Anthony studied House's face, trying to read the older man's nearly unreadable expression. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." House averted his eyes and concentrated on caressing Anthony's hand.

"Is that right?" Anthony regarded House skeptically. "I've been kind of on pins and needles all day, if you want to know the truth."

"What the hell for?" House looked baffled. "I've been..." He caught himself, suddenly reluctant to fully express himself. He had been looking forward to this lunch all morning, even as Jake's kiss still remained in the back of his mind.

The waitress breezed up to their table to take their orders, breezing out nearly as quickly as she had shown up. House leaned back against the booth and stretched out his right leg, his calf touching Anthony's. The younger man jumped slightly at the touch, glancing up to see a slightly teasing expression on House's face.

"You did that on purpose." Anthony flashed a quick smile at House.

House shrugged as he stretched out his other leg to hook it around Anthony's. "Maybe so, maybe not. I'll never tell."

Anthony chuckled and placed his chin on one hand, leaning on his elbow to look intently at House. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were flirting with me."

Anthony's stance briefly reminded House of Jake in the Chinese restaurant just the night before. House was starting to feel like the biggest man-whore on Earth, right behind Wilson...and possibly Anthony.

He sighed and pulled back his left leg, moving his right so that it no longer contacted Anthony's. Anthony's brow crinkled in concern as he watched the older man shift uncomfortably and drum

his fingertips on the table in front of him, glancing off into the distance. Finally he shifted his focus to Anthony, meeting his eyes. "If I tell you something, will you get upset?"

Anthony looked briefly alarmed. "Depends on what it is."

House twisted his mouth thoughtfully before answering. "I didn't plan on seeing you last night. I never planned on seeing you ever again."

"Kind of figured it was an impulse move on your part." Anthony started to reach out, but thought better of it. "Most people don't plan on midnight reunions, unless they actually work the night shift, which neither one of us do. Anyway. I assume there's more to the story?"

House nodded, encouraged by Anthony's response so far. "Jake and I went to dinner, and I kind of invited him back to my place instead of going back to his hotel room like we normally would have." That part made Anthony wince a bit, but he tried to keep a neutral face as House continued. "Once we got there, I guess I kind of...froze. We ended up playing music for a couple hours. The kid's one hell of a guitar player."

"Kid?" Anthony's curiosity was piqued. "How old is he?"

"He's never come out and said. Guess it didn't really matter at the time." House shrugged. "Early thirties, by my best guess."

Anthony looked briefly amused. "So you landed yourself an even younger hottie after me? Go you."

House rolled his eyes, and Anthony could see a tinge of pink in his cheeks. "_Anyway_. Afterwards, he kind of put a move on me, and I kind of froze, again." He reached out to lightly stroke Anthony's hand. "If I let him in my bed...it would have only been a matter of time before I let him in...elsewhere. I didn't want that."

Anthony turned his hand over to catch House's fingers, running his thumb along them. He released them when the waitress brought their food, and they started to work their way through their lunch while House continued his story. "He was really cool about the whole thing. Told me that what I wanted was what mattered, and if I didn't want...whatever, then what he wanted was irrelevant. Kind of reminded me of something a certain someone said a while back." House gave Anthony a pointed look, and the younger man laughed a little and shook his head. "So I told him all about you, and he gave me the kick in the ass I needed. The rest, as they say, is history. Or something like that."

Anthony swallowed the bite he'd been chewing to throw House a puzzled look. "You might want to tell me when I'm supposed to get upset, because I'm not really sure."

House huffed in exasperation. "The part where I was going to do either him or you. Doesn't that bother you? And what about the part where I was with him the night before, you know, in the biblical sense?"

Anthony merely regarded House coolly from across the table. "Are you trying to get a reaction out of me? Because it's not really working."

"He kissed me this morning when we met for coffee." House blurted out. "I kissed him back, and not some chaste little peck, either. Full on lip lock, tongue and everything."

Anthony continued his steady gaze. "So are we even now?" House looked baffled as Anthony once again reached for his hand. "Look, this starting over thing puts us in an odd place. What you were doing last night, two nights ago, hell, two _months_ ago is none of my business. Even this morning is kind of borderline." He tilted his head at House as he continued. "Why do you think I didn't want to go with you this morning? I had _some_ idea how it would go."

A suspicious expression crossed House's face. "How did you know?"

"You know how I told you Simon and I made better friends than lovers?" House nodded as he took a few bites of his sandwich. "Well...we kind of decided that in bed one night."

House stopped mid-bite and regarded Anthony quizzically. "Before or after?"

"After." Anthony answered almost casually. "The physical part was there but the other...was kind of dying, and we both knew it. We figured it was better to end it before we started hating each other."

"And now you're BFFs. Interesting."

"You're missing the point, Greg." Anthony set his plate aside and squarely faced House. "The point is...you and Jake needed some kind of closure. You might not have known that, but I did. That's why I didn't want to tag along, and that's why I'm not bothered now."

House frowned thoughtfully for a moment before tilting his head at Anthony. "So you don't think I'm a man-slut?"

Anthony shrugged. "I don't think it really matters right now, do you?"

"It might matter later."

Anthony reached out and covered House's hand with his own. "Do you honestly think I would hold any of your past behavior against you?" The waitress dropped off the bill, and House quickly moved to pick it up.

"I would if it were me." House answered as he grabbed his coat and made his way to the cash register, Anthony close behind him. He paid the bill and strode out of the deli, pausing just outside, suddenly deep in thought. "If I remember correctly, I _did_ hold it against you."

Anthony moved so that he faced House and gently wrapped his arms around him. House stiffened slightly, but didn't try to pull away. "Hey, clean slate, remember? It doesn't matter now."

"Right." House slowly placed his arms around the younger man and dropped a quick kiss on his forehead. "So...busy tomorrow?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"Thought maybe we could do dinner...get things moving in the right direction again."

Anthony squeezed House a little tighter. "I'd like that. I know a great little place. Totally private, and we can hang out all night if we want."

House nodded and briefly squeezed Anthony in return before releasing him and stepping away. "Guess it's a date, then."

Anthony smiled a little as the older man turned and made his way down the sidewalk to his car. Things were definitely a little strange and awkward for them right now, especially in the light of House's confession. Anthony had long suspected that others found House attractive, but being faced with the reality of another person in House's life who obviously had some attachment to him was another thing entirely.

He sighed to himself as he turned and returned to his car. He climbed in and sat deep in thought as the vehicle warmed up, trying to wrap his mind around things.

Anthony had never considered himself a jealous man, but the idea that there might be someone waiting in the wings for him to screw things up with House again bothered him. He and Simon had managed to stay friends after their relationship ended, but the circumstances were somewhat different. Their relationship had stretched out over several years. House had known this Jake guy only a couple of weeks.

Anthony huffed in irritation and pulled out of his parking spot. This reconciliation was going to be a little more difficult than he had bargained for, that was for sure. He only hoped that it would be worth it, eventually.

# # #

House returned to the hospital after his lunch with Anthony, his mind riddled with doubt. He hadn't anticipated Anthony's reaction to his distinctly whorish behavior, and he couldn't help but wonder if the younger man was keeping some of his feelings about the matter to himself. House wouldn't blame him if he did.

He sighed in frustration as he hung up his coat and dumped his backpack before sliding into his desk chair to check his e-mail and sort through a few things on his desk. This reconciliation thing wasn't quite going the way he thought it would. What was he expecting, anyway? That they would be able to push a reset button on their relationship, wiping out whatever had come before? House knew now that was impossible, but now he was less sure than ever about how to handle things. Now that the initial euphoria had passed, it was less clear where he and Anthony stood.

Then there was the matter of Jake. Jake and that damned kiss that still worked at House's mind. It was just as well that Jake had decided to wait to contact him. House wasn't even sure he could handle being around him right now while he was trying to get things back on track with Anthony.

He loved Anthony, that much he knew for sure. But even though House had tried to keep things between he and Jake purely physical, there was some connection there, and House wasn't sure that it would translate into friendship so easily. It was a strange situation House found himself in, no question.

He shook off his thoughts and pushed himself out of his desk chair to poke his head into the conference room. Taub was poring over potential case files, and Foreman was deep into research on the laptop. "Find anything yet?"

Taub shook his head, clearly disappointed. "Nothing."

"I'll be down in the clinic. Page me if you find something."

House made his way down to the clinic, letting the parade of patients take his mind off things for a couple of hours. He ran into Thirteen several times throughout the afternoon as she worked her own clinic hours, occasionally chatting as they passed each other.

Thirteen carefully studied the older doctor as they rode back up to the fourth floor after the clinic slowed down. He seemed more subdued than he had this morning, and she wondered if his lunch 'date' had anything to do with it.

"Have a good lunch date?" She ventured.

House glanced at her with a slight frown. "Maybe. Why?"

"Just wondering. You seem a bit..." Thirteen shrugged. "I don't know. Never mind. Forget I asked."

They stepped off the elevator and headed back to Diagnostics, House entering his office as Thirteen entered through the conference room. He couldn't help but wonder why Thirteen had asked him about his lunch date at all. Maybe she had only been making conversation, but maybe there was more to it.

He shook off the thought as he picked up his backpack and coat and left his office. If he got a move on, he'd have time for a workout before going over to Wilson's. House had promised his very lovely physical therapist that he would maintain his progress between sessions, and it was a promise he intended to keep. He suspected that the young woman wouldn't hesitate to kick his ass around the block if he fell through on that promise. As enticing as that thought was...he liked the way things were progressing for him so far. House's pain levels had been dropping as his strength improved, though the nerve pain stayed with him, and mostly likely always would. All the PT in the world wouldn't take that away, but it was making the muscle pain far more manageable. That alone was worth a hell of a lot, and took away a few physical limitations. One never knew when _that_ might come in handy.

House smirked a little to himself at the memory of he and Anthony in the hallway. There was no way in hell he could have managed that before. House supposed the PT was already coming in handy, in ways he hadn't anticipated before. He hoped to put a little more of that to good use in times to come, if there were any more times to come with Anthony. House wasn't so sure of that right now.

It didn't matter just then, House decided as he rode the elevator downstairs and crossed the lobby to the sliding double doors. His quality of life had greatly improved, and that would come in handy no matter who came along, whether that was Anthony or someone else. House still hoped Anthony would be that someone, despite the awkwardness of their earlier lunch date. Perhaps dinner would work out better. If for some reason it didn't...no, there was no point in obsessing over something that hadn't even happened yet. It was another bridge House would cross when he got to it.

# # #

Wilson rolled himself off the couch when he heard the distinct sound of wood on wood at his door. "It's open!"

House entered, limping slowly into the apartment, bearing the aforementioned beer and handing it off to Wilson. Wilson's brows crinkled in concern. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." House responded as he slowly took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack near the door. "Pushed myself a little hard at the gym tonight, that's all."

Wilson grinned slowly. House was taking this PT thing more seriously than he let on. "So PT's going well, I take it?"

"You could say that." House took the beer that Wilson offered and plopped down heavily on the couch. "Maybe if I push myself, she'll be a little easier on me when I see her next."

"Yeah, that'll happen." Wilson rolled his eyes as he took the six pack into the kitchen and put it in the refrigerator. "So, I assume she's...attractive?"

"She's freaking HOT." House grinned wolfishly and took a long drink of his beer.

Wilson snorted in response. "Careful now. Wouldn't want Tony to get jealous." He shook his head at his own words. "Didn't think I'd ever say something like that."

House twisted his mouth in response, a darker expression taking over his rough features. Wilson didn't miss the change, and squinted his eyes at the older man. "Did I say something wrong?"

House shook his head. "Forget it. It's nothing."

"Which means it's something." Wilson picked up the phone and the take out menu. "What do you want?"

House pushed himself off the couch to take the menu out of Wilson's hand, perusing it briefly. "Number seven works for me."

Wilson placed the order, and inside of half an hour, the two friends were on the couch, drinking beer and eating their Chinese food as if nothing had ever changed between them. Eventually they set the containers aside, sharing the gossip of the day as Wilson found the _telenovela_ on his TiVo.

House barely listened to the dialogue, his mind occupied by Wilson's earlier comment. Wilson seemed to notice House's distraction, and finally shut off the television. "Something's on your mind."

"Something's always on my mind." House answered quietly, draining the remains of his beer. "Doesn't mean I always need to share it."

Wilson nodded and started cleaning up containers and beer bottles. House either would speak up or wouldn't, and there was nothing Wilson could do to hurry that along.

House followed him into the kitchen, carrying a pair of empty beer bottles with him. He watched as Wilson threw away containers and tossed chopsticks and silverware into the sink, leaning against the counter and tapping his cane on the floor. "So I had lunch with Tony today."

"I know." Wilson answered. "How'd that go?"

House shrugged. "I don't know. Good, I guess." He glanced at the floor as he continued to tap his cane in a steady rhythm. "Kind of weird and awkward."

Wilson finished his clean up and leaned against the counter next to the sink. "I can imagine. Are you going to...go out again?"

"Yeah." House looked a little pensive. "If we don't work out...I'm not sure what I'm going to do."

"You really think that's possible?"

House's mouth twisted in an ironic smile. "Anything's _possible_."

"House." Wilson crossed his arms over his chest and gave his oldest friend a hard stare. "Do you really think Tony would have gotten together with you if he didn't feel _something _for you?"

"I know he wouldn't have. I'm not an idiot." House snapped, thumping his cane on the floor. "I just...I wish I knew what the hell to _do._"

"What is there to do?" Wilson was puzzled by the line of conversation. "You had this incredibly intense...relationship with him before. You can't expect either one of you to erase that and just start over."

There was a long silence as House absorbed Wilson's words. He lifted his eyes to meet Wilson's. "I kind of want to go see him."

"Is that what you really want?" Wilson questioned him. "Seems like that goes against what you're trying to do."

"I said I _wanted_ to see him. I never said I was actually going to do it." House pushed himself off the counter and leaned on his cane. "I _am _capable of an ounce of self-control."

"I know that." Wilson sounded a little resigned, cursing himself for drawing such a quick conclusion. "I guess I kind of jumped to conclusions. Sorry."

"Not your fault." House shrugged as he returned to the living room, sitting down on the couch to put on his shoes. "It's not like you don't have your reasons."

Wilson put his hands in his pants pockets, watching House. "You've come a long way since you guys broke up. Sometimes I forget that." He shrugged thoughtfully. "I wouldn't worry too much about you and Tony. It's going to be weird and awkward for a while, but I think you'll work it out."

House looked up, puzzled. "You really think so?"

"I do." Wilson nodded. "You two just kind of...work."

House allowed a small smile then, nodding in response. "Maybe you're right. And even if it doesn't work out..."

"It won't be the end of the world." Wilson finished the statement as House rose to his feet.

"Something like that." House limped over to where his coat hung near the door, picking it up and putting it on, noting the odd mix of scents that floated off it. He paused briefly, leaning on his cane before looking Wilson in the eye. "Thanks. You know, for the food and stuff."

"Of course." Wilson answered, still surprised that House bothered to thank him. "See you at work tomorrow?"

House nodded, turning and exiting the apartment, quietly pulling the door closed behind him. Wilson could just hear House's car chirp as he unlocked the doors and started it. He was relieved and pleasantly surprised that House had finally replaced the ancient beast he had been rattling around in for the better part of fifteen years with something a little more reliable. More importantly, House seemed pleased with his choice, driving anywhere and everywhere he had an opportunity to.

Wilson hoped like hell that House and Anthony could work things out between them. Not that Jake didn't seem like a decent sort of guy from the little contact Wilson had with him, but House and Anthony just seemed to work, as he had told House. Things had changed for House in the couple of months that the two men had been apart, and he hoped that Anthony would be able to roll with those changes. If he could, they had a good chance of making it, of that Wilson was sure. If he couldn't, for some reason, Wilson felt more sure that House would still be okay. The man that had hung out with him here tonight was nothing like the human train wreck he and Chase had scraped up off the floor just a couple of months before, and for that Wilson was fundamentally grateful.

# # #

**This is the part where you read and review. Push the green button and tell me what you think.**


	53. Chapter 53

**Back again with all the usual disclaimers and stuff. Don't own them, never have, never will. All the O/Cs are mine.**

# # #

Anthony worked on dinner in his kitchen that evening, his lunch date with House still fresh in his mind. He couldn't help the small flame of jealousy that flared up every time he thought about Jake, and he didn't know what would help squelch it. He was sure that House would be content being friends with the man, but Anthony wasn't so sure about Jake.

Even after he and Simon had decided to become friends, they had hooked up a couple of times. Anthony hated the idea of the same thing happening between Jake and House. Not that House would do such a thing, but he couldn't say the same for the other man, and he was quite sure the other man would have no problem charming his way into House's...whatever.

The sound of Simon pounding on his door snapped him out of his thoughts, and Anthony padded across the living room to answer, crossing the space where he and House had lay just that morning. Good thing he had remembered to pick up the blanket before Simon showed up. Anthony would have hated to have to try to explain _that_.

The pounding continued incessantly until Anthony finally answered the door, flinging it open. "I was on my way, you know."

"I'm sure." Simon breezed past Anthony toward the kitchen. "What's cooking, honey?"

"Food." Anthony smirked as he followed Simon.

"Oh, you're funny." Simon rolled his eyes and peeked into the pan. "Smells good, whatever it is. Wine?"

"Nah, I've got my beer. I'm good." Anthony nudged Simon away from the stove and stirred the food in the pan.

Simon found the corkscrew and started uncorking his bottle of wine, finding a glass in the cabinet. He couldn't help but notice the two coffee mugs sitting in the sink. "Did you have company earlier?"

Anthony froze. He had every intention of telling Simon about his reconciliation with House, but in his own time. "Yeah, about that..."

Simon poured a glass of wine and leaned against the sink, swirling it in the glass before taking a long sip. "Go on."

Anthony set the lid on the pan and picked up his beer, draining the remains of the bottle. "I had company last night. He stayed until this morning."

"Really." Simon frowned. "Must have been pretty special if you let him hang around for coffee. You haven't done that since..." His eyes went wide. "No way."

Anthony turned his head and nodded slightly. "It was Greg."

"Get the fuck out." Simon's voice was incredulous. "So are you two back on?"

"We're...working on it." Anthony answered. "We talked and...stuff last night, went out to lunch today, got a dinner date tomorrow. What was the name of that place by your studio?"

Simon cupped a hand around his ear. "Do you hear that?" Anthony shook his head. "That's the sound of every queer in Jersey crying his eyes out because you're off the market again."

"Whatever." Anthony rolled his eyes and turned down the burner under the pan. "No need to send out announcements or anything. I'm not even sure we're 'on'."

"What do you mean?" Simon threw Anthony a baffled expression.

"I don't know." Anthony took another beer out of the refrigerator and popped it open. "Last night...this morning was...amazing. Lunch was...well, awkward."

"Of course it was." Simon nodded in understanding. "But you're seeing each other. You're talking...among other things, obviously. That's a good start, right?"

Anthony sighed and leaned against the counter. "He wants to slow things down. You know, 'date', like normal people."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I guess." Anthony took another long drink of his beer. "One thing that's bugging me, though. There's this guy that Greg was seeing before we...reconciled."

"No surprise there." Simon rolled his eyes.

"According to Greg, he encouraged him to give me another chance." Anthony continued. "Now he wants to keep him around as a friend."

"And...?"

"And..." Anthony paused before continuing. "Greg met him for coffee. Apparently it turned into a bit more than that."

"Oh dear." Simon's brow wrinkled with worry. "How much more?"

"A kiss. And not just a friendly peck, either." Anthony frowned as he finished off his beer and slammed it on the counter.

A slow smile crept over Simon's fine features. "I don't believe this. You're jealous. _Big _time jealous."

Anthony flushed, glancing at the floor. "I know. It's stupid."

"Maybe." Simon crossed the kitchen to squeeze Anthony on the shoulder. "But it's normal."

Anthony's eyes finally rose to meet Simon's. "So what do I do?"

"Be honest with him." Simon looked at Anthony as if he were crazy. "Duh. It's what he would do...and apparently did." He wrinkled his nose. "He was a little _too_ honest, if you ask me."

Anthony laughed softly and patted the hand that rested on his shoulder. "I'd rather he be too honest with me, trust me."

"Suit yourself." Simon sniffed as he released Anthony, who crossed the kitchen to stir up the pan's contents. "Seems to me he could dial down the honesty a little."

Anthony smiled to himself as he turned off the stove. He preferred House's brutal honesty and indifference to social conventions over others' smooth talk and lies. "Food's ready when you are."

"I'm definitely ready." Simon answered as he pulled down plates from the cabinet. They dished up and settled in the living room with their plates. "So what made you decide to try again?"

"I don't know, exactly." Anthony looked thoughtful. "There's just something about him. If there's even half a chance we can be together...I just can't let that go."

Simon nodded sagely. He had seen his friend through some of the highest and lowest points in his life. House had been one of those high points, and their break-up, one of the lowest. Anthony had been down as low as Simon had ever seen him. He supposed his own reaction hadn't helped matters, but when Simon saw Anthony return to his former barhopping, bedhopping existence so soon after his split from the man he supposedly loved so much, he didn't know what else to do. All he could do was walk away.

"Well, I'm glad that other guy pushed Greg your way." Simon asserted. "That man really was the best thing to happen to you in years."

Anthony didn't answer at first, and Simon thought he saw his green eyes go a little shiny. "I know." He finally managed to choke out softly. "I don't want to lose him again."

"You won't." Simon assured him. "Now that you know how important he is to you...you're no dummy. You won't screw it up twice."

Anthony barked out a short laugh. "Mostly because he won't let me."

"And that's a damn good thing." Simon spoke sharply. "Means he won't put up with anything."

Anthony nodded and returned to his dinner, and he and Simon moved on to other topics, simply spending the evening catching up with each other.

Finally Simon had to leave, and he gave Anthony a long hug before he left. "Promise me you'll talk to that man of yours."

"Can't really call him my man just yet." Anthony laughed as he returned the hug. "But I will talk to him."

"Good." Simon released him, patting his arm lightly. "I really hope you two can work it out. You're so good together."

Anthony couldn't help but roll his eyes at Simon's romantic notion. "We'll see what happens. See you around."

Simon left with a slight chuckle, and Anthony made his way to the kitchen to wash the few dishes. His thoughts drifted to House, wondering what he was doing with his evening. After he finished the dishes, he checked his watch. Eleven o'clock. Late by most people's standards, but not by House standards. If he wanted to, he _could_ just stop by, assuming House didn't have anything else going on.

He wiped off his hands with a sigh. This was one conversation Anthony would much rather have in person. He quickly donned shoes and a coat, grabbing his keys before he could change his mind.

# # #

House was just settling into bed when he thought he heard a knock at the door. He turned over in bed and pulled the covers over him when he heard the same knock, only louder. Clearly whoever wanted to see him wasn't giving up easily.

He huffed in irritation and pushed himself out of bed, limping heavily down the hallway as he heard the third knock on the door. "I'll be there! Stop fucking knocking!"

He flung the door open to see Anthony standing there, a stunned expression on his face. "I...I know it's late."

House regarded him with a baffled expression. "I know you're weary. What are you doing here?"

Anthony leaned against the door frame, glancing at the floor. "I know your plans don't include me. Can I come in? It's kind of chilly out here."

House's mouth quirked in amusement as he stepped aside to let the younger man in. "You didn't answer my question."

Anthony shivered a little as he stomped the snow off his shoes and closed the door behind him. He debated briefly on how to best bring up his jealousy, finally deciding to go for the direct approach. It's what House would do, after all. "You know when you told me all about Jake today, and I was kind of okay about it?"

"Yeah?" House regarded Anthony suspiciously.

"I kind of...wasn't so okay with it." Anthony leaned against the door, glancing up at the ceiling.

A slow smile curved across House's lips. "Were you...jealous?"

Anthony rolled his eyes. "Yes. Yes, I was, and am, jealous. Just a little."

House limped over to where Anthony stood, placing one hand on the door above Anthony's shoulder, leaning in to study him. "So you're human after all. That's good to know."

Anthony could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, feeling a little silly at his fit of jealousy. "So I don't want anyone else chasing after you. Is that so wrong?" He frowned slightly. "I'm not even sure I'm okay with you staying friends with _him_."

"Jake." House answered calmly, stepping a little closer.

"Jake. Right." Anthony could smell House's freshly showered skin from where he stood. It was a different scent from what he was used to, and it made Anthony wonder what House had been doing all night. He shook off the thought as the older man moved in closer, pressing a soft kiss to Anthony's forehead. "Sounds like he wants more than friendship out of you."

"He does." House murmured, moving so that he had Anthony pinned against the door.

"So why not him?" Anthony asked softly, taking in the spicy scent of House's soap.

House bent lower to kiss Anthony's temple. "He's young, hot, and damned good in bed. But he's not you."

"That doesn't really answer the question."

House moved in so close that Anthony could feel his breath on his lips. "I like him, but I don't love him. I love _you_, you jealous idiot." He quickly captured Anthony's lips in a slow, lingering kiss. "Any more stupid questions?"

Anthony snorted, relaxing somewhat. "I guess not."

"Good." House planted a kiss on the younger man's forehead. "I figured something was up. I just didn't know what."

"How did you know?" Anthony pulled back in surprise. "_I _didn't even know until I was getting ready to leave the deli."

House rolled his eyes. "Only a saint would be totally okay with what I told you. And you're definitely not a saint."

Anthony's lips curved in a slight grin. "I think you like it that way."

"I do." House agreed. "So...are you going or staying?"

A bit of fear stabbed at Anthony. He hadn't thought that far ahead. "We wouldn't be going very slow if I stayed..."

"I'm okay with that." House murmured as he started a line of kisses down the younger man's throat, his hands moving to caress his back.

"I didn't..._plan_ on staying..." Anthony was melting under House's lips and hands, losing his ability to think.

"Your excuses are getting lamer." House softly told him as he moved his hands under the layers of leather coat, fleece, and t-shirt.

Anthony gasped softly when he felt House's cool hands against the warm skin of his lower back. "I'll...stay. But I'm not staying all night."

"Deal." House shoved Anthony's jacket off his body and onto the floor. His fleece and t-shirt quickly followed, and House pulled back to smooth his hands all over the younger man's body before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in for a long, fierce kiss.

Anthony responded in kind, sliding his hands up the back of House's t-shirt to feel the muscle move under his skin. The move evoked a low moan from the older man, and he pulled Anthony toward him as he backed up.

"Mmm...where are we going?" Anthony murmured as House broke away from his mouth and started down his throat again.

"Bedroom." House growled. "Just don't step on my feet."

Anthony stopped House long enough to toe off his shoes. "There. Problem solved. Where were we again?"

"This way." House rumbled, pulling Anthony along, nearly running into the couch along the way.

"How about I just follow you?" Anthony softly suggested. "Not like I don't know where it is."

House nodded firmly, turning and limping down the hallway. Anthony soon caught up, catching House around the waist and pushing his t-shirt up and off his body. He wrapped his arms around the older man's waist, pressing kisses into his shoulder and taking in his scent. "You smell different."

"All those damn bottles look alike." House grumbled. "I don't know what it is."

"I like it." Anthony moved from House's shoulder to his spine, leaving a series of kisses up House's spine, evoking a soft groan from the older man. He untied House's sleep pants and let them fall to the floor, pleasantly surprised to find nothing but skin underneath. "I like this even better." Anthony caressed House's hips and thighs as he lightly licked and nibbled at a particularly sensitive spot on House's neck.

House growled, reaching behind him in an attempt to undo Anthony's jeans. After some fumbling, he gave up, turning to finish the job as Anthony resumed his ministrations, feeling House's hands slip under the waist of his jeans and shove them off his body.

The older man pulled Anthony closer, and they both fell onto the bed with a soft thump, Anthony kicking his jeans off the rest of the way before settling in next to House, one leg thrown over his, one hand moving over the older man's body while his lips wandered all over his neck, making his way to his collarbone.

"Goddammit, Tony." House groaned and arched his back, pulling Anthony on top of him and rocking against him. Anthony gasped in response, burying himself in House's neck and shoulder, finding another sensitive spot, lightly licking and nibbling at it, evoking a variety of almost animal-like sounds from the older man.

House reached out for the bedside table, fumbling with the drawer briefly before finding the condom, but nothing else. He ripped it open and reached down to cover Anthony, guiding him toward his intended target.

"Are you sure?" Anthony murmured as they shifted.

"Just go slow." House managed to answer back as he lightly caressed the younger man's back.

Anthony nodded and shifted so that he was on his knees, carefully easing his way in, watching the older man's face scrunch up slightly. He seemed to relax once Anthony was in, moving in gentle rhythm, and he took Anthony's hand to wrap it around him. Anthony started stroking him, watching as House squirmed under him, a slight smile gracing his rough features.

He pumped a little harder into House, and while the older man winced slightly, he moaned softly at the action, pulling Anthony in closer. Anthony braced himself with a hand on either side of House, riding the edge until he finally went over with a loud gasp, shaking as he collapsed against House.

The older man lightly stroked Anthony's back, and the younger man took the moment to recover before pulling out and moving down House's body to take him into his mouth, gently rolling his tongue over him as House roughly stroked his head, every noise coming from him encouraging Anthony on.

Anthony took House all the way in, feeling the rough hair at his core tickling his lips as House gasped loudly, arching upward, both hands curling in the younger man's hair as Anthony sped up the action. He could feel the older man tense for a moment as he unloaded, shaking and finally relaxing with a sigh, lightly stroking Anthony's head.

Anthony climbed back up to lay down next to House, and the older man almost immediately wrapped an arm around him, bringing him in close and kissing his forehead. He couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Everything okay?"

"Mm-hm." House murmured sleepily. "Sure you don't want to stay?"

"I'm not sure of much of anything these days." Anthony answered as he turned on his side and curled up to House, throwing an arm across his chest.

House frowned slightly. "You having second thoughts?"

"No, nothing like that." Anthony moved so that his hand was spread out across House's chest, feeling the now-slowing heartbeat under his hand. "It's just that...if we're supposed to be slowing things down, we're doing a terrible job of it."

House chuckled. "I know. I also didn't hear any objections from you."

"What can I say?" Anthony laughed. "You can be very convincing."

"So that's a 'yes' for staying tonight." House glanced over at the younger man.

"I suppose." Anthony found the covers and tugged them over the two of them. "But just this once."

"Right." House snorted as he pulled Anthony closer to him. "That's what they all say."

Anthony chuckled a little to himself as he curled under the covers, taking in House's scent. Secretly, he kind of hoped to make a habit of this again. He had missed this most of all during their time apart, and try though he might, no one could ever take House's place, in either his bed or his heart. Anthony hadn't planned on this at all when he had come over, but he wasn't objecting, either. From the way House was holding on to him and lightly stroking his arm as he fell asleep, neither was House.

# # #

Anthony awakened with a start, somewhat disoriented in the darkness. It was either ridiculously late or extremely early, and Anthony couldn't tell which.

Last night's events started to come back to him, and when he heard House snoring next to him, everything came together. A slow smile curved his lips as he shifted closer to the older man and slipped an arm around his waist.

House had literally seduced him, and Anthony couldn't help but feel a small thrill course through him at the idea. He had come here last night with the intention of simply talking things out with House. Some talk indeed.

The older man turned over to his side, trapping Anthony's arm beneath his as he did so. He muttered something unintelligible and immediately started snoring again. Anthony managed to extricate himself from House's grip and slip out of bed to follow his trail of clothes back out to the living room, dressing as he did so.

He pulled the fleece over his head as he padded toward the kitchen to start coffee. As he did so, he chuckled in amusement at how automatic his actions were. It was almost as if nothing had changed at all.

Anthony knew that wasn't the case. A good deal had changed in their time apart, and Anthony knew that he and House couldn't simply pick up where they left off. For one thing, there was the matter of the younger man that was waiting in the wings. House had made it clear that this was their one chance, and he wouldn't hesitate to walk away again. Anthony had to admire the inner strength the older man seemed to have developed, but he had no intention of testing it. That other man...Jake, or whatever the hell his name was, was shit out of luck as far as Anthony was concerned.

He scrubbed his hand over his face as the coffeemaker spluttered to a stop. Simon had certainly called this one. Even though he felt better for telling House, it didn't stop Anthony's feelings from bouncing all over the place.

This must have been how House felt after Anthony told him about the dance club incident. Anthony's stomach churned a little at the thought. He sighed a little and found a pair of coffee mugs, filling one with sugar before pouring coffee into both of them, not thinking about what he was doing.

He was so deep into his thoughts that he didn't hear House step-thump into the kitchen, jumping when he felt House's lips press against his neck. The older man smirked slightly as he grabbed one of the mugs and took a long drink, sighing appreciatively. He leaned against the counter, noting Anthony's ponderous expression. "Kind of early for such deep thoughts, don't you think?"

Anthony leaned forward on the counter, spreading his fingers out as he frowned thoughtfully. "I don't like feeling this way."

"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but...feeling what way?"

Anthony glanced over at House briefly before continuing. "This whole jealousy thing. It's not me." He shook his head in befuddlement. "I've never been jealous of anyone."

"I'd be honored if it wasn't so damned creepy." House answered before taking another drink of his coffee.

Anthony snorted in response and took a sip of his own coffee. "It is creepy, isn't it? I mean, it's not like I'm the only one who's ever found you attractive."

House studied Anthony's face carefully before responding. "There's more to it, though. You weren't bothered by that idea when we went to that drag show."

Anthony nodded. "You're right, of course." He sighed heavily, trying to find a way to explain himself. "This is just...different. I don't know. It's stupid. Forget it."

House fixed Anthony with a steely look. "It's not just going to go away, you know."

Anthony drained his coffee mug and set it in the sink, returning to place a gentle kiss on House's lips. "It doesn't matter, really. I'll get over it."

"Right." House looked skeptical, but didn't say anything more. He simply returned the kiss, placing a hand on the younger man's waist. "We still on for tonight?"

"Of course." Anthony smiled slightly. "Seven work for you?"

"Sure." House nodded as Anthony left the kitchen. He pushed himself away from the counter and limped out to the living room just as Anthony was picking up his coat from the floor. "Leaving so soon?"

Anthony nodded. "Got a few things to do at home before I go into work." He wrapped the older man in a hug and kissed him before opening the door. "See you later."

The door closed behind him, and House allowed a small smile to spread over his face. The boy was jealous. That wasn't an entirely bad thing, House decided. It was good to be wanted, good to know he was worthy of such emotions, even if they were a little misguided.

He chuckled to himself as he finished off his coffee and limped back down the hall to the bedroom. The puzzle behind Anthony's behavior could wait until he'd gotten a couple more hours of sleep.

# # #

**All yours, readers. Read and review.**


	54. Chapter 54

**Managed to get another chapter knocked out before the end of the weekend. Once again, I don't own any of them but Anthony.**

# # #

House had no sooner settled in behind his desk that morning when Taub entered his office, a case file in his hand. "Cuddy sent this up with me. Oh, and apparently you have one of those department head meeting things that you never bother to attend."

House fixed the plastic surgeon with a glare as he took the file from his hand. "Too bad. Pretty sure I've got clinic duty scheduled during that time."

Taub's lips quirked in an almost imperceptible smile. "I'm sure Cuddy will let that slide for a change."

House seemed to ignore Taub as he pored over the file, letting out a low whistle as he went through the thick stack that comprised their new patient's medical records. "Actually...I think I'm about to be up to my eyeballs in patient." He handed the thick file back to Taub. "Go forth and copy. I do believe we have ourselves a case."

He turned back to his computer as the plastic surgeon left, opening his e-mail. When nothing of interest presented itself, he opened up a game of solitaire while he waited for Taub to return with the file.

His phone started chiming in his pocket, and he dug it out of his pocket to check the Caller ID. He flipped it open to answer. "Don't tell me you miss me already."

"You wish." Jake laughed heartily on the other end. "Actually, I just called to extend an invitation to you."

"Really." House was immediately interested. "Do tell."

"I've been throwing this big New Year's thing for the last few years. Thought I'd invite you and your guy, if you're interested."

House leaned back in his desk chair, pondering the idea. "I don't think I have any big plans. I'll have to run it by Tony when I see him later." He frowned thoughtfully. "Thought you didn't want to see me for a while."

"I changed my mind." Jake answered casually. "Truth be told...I guess I kind of miss you."

"Aw, how sweet." House snarked in response.

"Yeah, well, I also wouldn't mind meeting this man of yours." Jake replied. "So just get back to me and let me know, okay?"

"Will do." Taub was returning with several copies of their case file. "Gotta fly. Just got a new case in."

"Cool." Jake grinned on the other end of the phone. "Have fun. Talk to you soon."

"Bye." House snapped his phone closed, turning it over in his hand before shoving it back in his pocket. Jake's phone call was not only completely unexpected, but unusual, too. He wasn't so sure about a face-to-face meeting between Jake and Tony. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation between the two men. He'd probably just skip the thing entirely. It just didn't seem worth the drama.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind in favor of the medical mystery that lay in front of him. This would be plenty to keep him and his team occupied for the rest of the day, at the very least.

House pushed himself out of his desk chair and followed Taub into the conference room. "Morning, kids. I trust everyone's had a minute to look over the file? Great, let's get started." He started scribbling symptoms on the board, Jake's phone call running in the background of his mind.

His team started throwing out ideas, casting aside the most obvious causes. Finally they had a small list to work with, and House sent his team off to test. No sooner had he done so than his pager went off at his hip. This patient was wasting no time in presenting a challenge, and House was almost grateful for the distraction.

He made it down to the patient's room just in time to meet up with Foreman just outside. "Patient's stable for now." The neurologist reported. "She went into cardiac arrest almost as soon as we started pulling blood for the tox screen. We got that handled, and her blood pressure shot through the roof."

Thirteen and Taub exited the patient's room to meet the other two men in the hallway. "She's got a rash on her back. Looks almost like a butterfly rash, but not quite."

"So almost, but not quite autoimmune. Interesting." House frowned as he leaned on his cane, deep in thought. "Okay, everyone back upstairs. Looks like we've got a long day ahead of us."

House and his team returned to the conference room, spending the day running back and forth between running tests and keeping their patient from crashing. They managed to rule out more causes, but their treatments weren't doing anything. If anything, she was getting worse.

Late in the afternoon, it became clear that House was going to have to stick around, as the patient presented with more symptoms than the team could keep up with. He pulled out his phone and speed dialed Anthony.

"Hey, hon." The word slipped out automatically before Anthony could catch himself. "What's going on?"

House couldn't help but smile a little at Anthony's endearment. "I'm going to have to cancel tonight. Damn patient won't quit trying to die on us."

"That's okay. Some other time." Anthony was disappointed, but knew it came with the territory. "Tell you what. Come on over when you're done. Don't worry about the time. I'll just leave the door unlocked for you."

House's lips quirked upward in a small smile. "You sure that's a good idea?"

There was a brief silence before Anthony spoke again. "I'm just giving you the option. It's up to you whether or not you want to take it."

"I'll see how things go here." House answered, still considering things. "Call you later?"

"Sure." Anthony was oddly disappointed that House didn't immediately jump on the offer. "Bye."

House snapped his phone closed and shoved it back in his pocket. While the offer was tempting, House wondered if it might not be better to back off and have some...'space'. He couldn't believe he was even considering such a thing.

His pager went off again, and he met up with his team and headed down to the patient's room. There would be plenty of time for internal debate later.

# # #

House leaned on his cane, staring out of his balcony door, pondering both his case and Anthony's words. It was getting late, even by his standards, and he considered not going over at all.

The patient was still giving them problems, her symptoms leading he and his team on a wild goose chase all through her body. House was starting to lose what little patience he had left when his pager went off again. Just as he started to leave his office, his cell rang.

"Don't bother coming down here." Foreman informed him. "We lost her."

House sighed heavily and turned back to his office. "You know what to do from here. I'll be in my office when you're done."

Within the hour Foreman returned with the patient's chart, handing it to House. "She's scheduled for an autopsy in the morning."

House nodded as he looked over the chart and signed off on it, tossing it on his desk. "See you in the morning."

The office grew quiet as his team prepared to leave for the night, soon leaving him alone, once again staring out the balcony door. He opened his bottom drawer and took out a cigar, stepping out onto the balcony.

It was chilly, but not unbearable, and House clipped the end of his cigar, lighting it and taking a contemplative puff. Now the only decision that lay before him was whether to take Anthony up on his offer or not. It was still tempting, no question, and he could use the company and comfort he knew the younger man would be only too happy to provide.

House had fully intended to slow things down. He wasn't sure what had come over him last night when Anthony had admitted his jealousy toward Jake. Some other instinct had taken over, some need to prove to Anthony that his jealousy was somehow unjustified. Words would have done, he supposed, but expressing himself in words was still something that didn't come easily to House.

He huffed in frustration and took another long puff off his cigar. Finally he came to a decision, and he pulled out his phone to call Anthony.

"Hello?" The younger man's voice had a distinctly sleepy tone.

"Hey, you." House replied, a slow smile crossing his face. "Just seeing if your offer was still open."

"Of course." Anthony answered, pushing himself into a sitting position on the couch.

"Good." House took a deep breath. "Just so you know, I am _not_ staying the night."

"That's fine." Anthony agreed. "I just...wanted to see you, that's all. It's okay if you don't really feel like it. What time is it, anyway?"

"You don't want to know." House hurriedly answered, butting out his cigar. "Maybe I should just go home."

Anthony sighed heavily. "I'm already awake. You might as well stop over."

House nodded firmly, turning to enter his office. "Leave a light on and the door open. I'm on my way."

"I'll see you when you get here." Anthony laughed softly.

House closed his phone and shoved it in his pocket, grabbing his coat and backpack before heading out of his office. There was no need to stop at home, since he wasn't planning on staying over at Anthony's.

His nerves were jangled for the entire drive, still not sure how he wanted to handle things. Finally he made his way up the stairs to Anthony's apartment, knocking on the door with his cane.

The door flung open, revealing a sleepy looking Anthony, dressing in a long sleeved Henley shirt and plaid flannel sleep pants. "You made it."

House nodded, and Anthony stepped aside to let him in. He was moving like a caged tiger, and Anthony didn't know what to do to ease his nerves.

Anthony decided to return to the couch, sitting with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. "There's beer if you want it."

House toed off his shoes and slowly limped into the kitchen, returning with a beer. Anthony pushed back the coffee table and gestured to House. "Have a seat."

House looked skeptical, but eased himself down between Anthony's legs, and Anthony placed his hands on House's shoulders, gently rubbing, feeling the tension that was stored there. The older man let out an appreciative rumble and took a long drink of his beer. "I'm still not staying, but that feels damn good."

Anthony laughed gently. "I wasn't trying to get you to stay. Tough night?"

"Lost my patient." House grumbled. "All that time spent working on her, and she died anyway."

Anthony continued working on House, moving to the spot between his shoulder blades, letting the older man talk about whatever crossed his mind. He mostly talked about his case, the ups and downs in dealing with the patient, the frustration over the multiple wrong diagnoses, the sense of defeat when they got the right diagnosis too late.

Finally House seemed to relax and he leaned back against the couch. Anthony leaned over House, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "Is there something else on your mind?"

House groaned inwardly. This thing had worked at his mind the entire drive over, and he still hadn't figured out a way to word it. He placed one hand over Anthony's two that were crossed across his chest. "I think we need some...ground rules for this thing."

"What did you have in mind?" Anthony was nothing if not curious.

House sighed heavily. His mind was muddled from his difficult day, and he wasn't sure they should be talking about this right now. On the other hand, if he didn't get this out now, he might not ever. "I don't know. I still want to dial it back a bit, I guess. We're doing a pretty crappy job of that right now."

"True." Anthony laughed. "Maybe we could just save the sleepovers for the weekends, and find some time to go out during the week."

A slow grin crossed House's face. When Anthony got it, he really got it. It was one of the things he liked best about him. "I could go for that." He lightly squeezed Anthony's hands. "I've missed our Sundays."

A shot of something went through Anthony at the thought. "I think I've missed that more than anything." He leaned down to kiss the top of House's head. "Okay, so weekends are on. I know your weekdays get crazy. Maybe we'll take the weekdays as they come. You get free, call me."

"I don't want to leave you hanging." House's voice took on a note of concern. "I mean, don't you have a life?"

"Hmm...okay, how about Tuesdays and Thursdays? That frees me up to do other things, and gives you some space if you need it."

"Think I could handle that. My place or yours?"

"Doesn't matter to me." Anthony pulled himself a little closer to House, taking in the scent of his now faded soap and his own scent. "We'll figure it out as we go."

House slowly nodded, tilting up his chin to look up at Anthony. "Are you really okay with this?"

"Yes." Anthony placed a gentle kiss on House's lips. "I seem to remember telling you something a while back. This thing is going to move at _your _pace. If it's not right for you..."

"...it's not right for either of us. Yeah, I remember." House regarded Anthony with a serious expression. "You're alright. Mind if I keep you?"

"I'd love that." Anthony laughed softly and squeezed House tightly. "Anything else on your mind?"

"Sleep." House answered in a half-yawn. "I'm beat."

"You're welcome to stay here." Anthony offered. "I won't molest you...if you don't want me to."

House snorted. "You're funny." He managed to push himself to his feet, wincing slightly as he leaned on his right leg.

"Thank you. I do try." Anthony offered the older man a hand, but House waved him away, limping down the hallway toward the bedroom.

He was already curled on his side, the covers wrapped around him like a cocoon when Anthony entered, and Anthony almost hated to disturb him. Anthony eased his way into the other side of the bed, startled when he felt an arm snake around his waist and pull him close.

"Thought you were already sleeping."

"That's what you get for thinking." House chuckled and curled closer to Anthony.

They were silent for a long moment when something occurred to House. "So Michaels is having some big Christmas thing on Saturday."

"I know. She invited me a couple of weeks ago."

"I knew it." House snorted. "That woman's got issues."

"Why? You don't think..." Anthony turned to face House. "There's no way."

"I don't just think, I know." House kissed the tip of Anthony's nose. "Way."

"That's hilarious." Anthony stretched an arm across House's waist. "So, you going?"

"I guess. Especially now that I seem to have a date for the thing."

"That's nice how you just assume I'm going." Anthony chided House. "How do you know I don't have other plans?"

"True." House tilted his head. "So, want to go to this thing with me on Saturday? I think I can get the car."

Anthony snickered in response. "I'd love to go. Got to have a Saturday night before you have a Sunday morning, you know."

"I like the way you think." House pulled Anthony close to him. There was something else he was going to mention, but his tired brain wasn't coming up with it at the moment. No matter. If it was important, he'd remember it in the morning. Right now he just wanted to curl up against Anthony's warm body and sleep like the dead. Anything else could wait.

# # #

House's eyes flew open, his body jolting in response to a dream that was already fading from memory. He was somewhat disoriented until he calmed enough to take in his surroundings. Anthony still snored peacefully next to him, and House huffed softly, curling himself around the younger man in the hopes of falling back asleep.

After half an hour with no success, House gave up and threw back the covers, finding his clothes from the night before and quickly putting them on before the cool air got to him. He limped down the hallway to the kitchen, finding everything he needed to start a pot of coffee. House had to admit that his coffee wasn't as good as Anthony's, but he didn't feel like waiting for the younger man.

He was relieved that he and Anthony had somehow been able to come to some agreement about the direction of their rekindled relationship. If he had to be honest with himself, the whole idea of moving forward in an open relationship with a man still scared him a bit. Hell, relationships period were difficult for him.

So why Anthony and not one of the women he had met during their time apart? It wasn't for lack of trying on House's part. The women he met were interesting in their own way, but none of them had quite captured his mind and heart like Anthony had, and he wasn't sure what the difference was.

Ultimately, it didn't really matter, House supposed. All that mattered was that he had somehow developed a very real connection with this man, and that this was the man he wanted to spend a good deal of time with, if not his life.

The coffeemaker spluttered to a stop, and House filled a mug with sugar and coffee, making his way out to the living room, digging his phone out along the way. He had a new voicemail, and he pushed the button to connect him.

"_Hey, Greg._" Jake's deep voice carried into his ear. "_Thought you might want some details if you decide to come to the New Year's thing..._" He listened as Jake rattled off his address and time for the party.

He groaned internally as he saved the message. _That _was the other thing he was going to mention to Anthony last night. While he wasn't sure Anthony would want to go, he did finally decide to put the idea out there. Failing that, maybe he and Anthony could figure out their own New Year's thing.

As if on cue, Anthony appeared in the living room with his own mug of coffee in his hand. "Your coffee's improving." He nodded towards House's phone. "Somebody call?"

House's mouth twisted as he turned the phone over in his hand. "Jake called yesterday. He's having some big New Year's thing and wanted us to come."

Anthony frowned. "Did he really invite us both?"

House shrugged as he took a long sip of coffee. "He said he wanted to meet you."

"I don't know." Anthony had a momentary flash of how _that_ meeting would go down. "How do I know he doesn't just want to kick my ass or something? I'm too damned old to get into catfights."

"If you don't want to go, we won't go." House told him. "We can do...our own thing."

Anthony blew a silent sigh of relief. "I'll think about it. No promises."

House glanced down at the floor with a pensive look. "He really is a good guy. I think you'll like him if you get a chance to meet him."

"I believe you." Anthony assured him. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to meet him."

"I thought insecurity was my thing." House rolled his eyes and took another drink.

"You hooked up with someone younger and cuter in my absence. Yeah, I'm feeling a little insecure. Forgive me." Anthony snapped a little, almost immediately cursing himself for it.

House sighed and sagged slightly. "Come here."

Anthony shook his head. "You're not going to seduce me into not being jealous. It really doesn't work."

"Not what I had in mind." House answered sharply. "Now get over here."

Anthony took a seat next to House, a bit on edge. House huffed in frustration and ran a hand over his head. "Look, I suck at words, okay?" He turned slightly so that he faced Anthony. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing here. All I know is that I chose _you_, not him. I like him, but I _love _you, and I want to make us...work."

Anthony blinked in mild surprise, then set down his coffee mug, placing one hand on House's cheek to pull him in for a long, sweet, gentle kiss. "For someone who sucks at words, you sure managed to put together a few good ones."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." House grumbled, glancing away, suddenly embarrassed by his outburst.

Anthony laughed gently, lightly stroking House's cheek. "So I suppose I don't have much reason to be jealous."

"I didn't say you didn't have any reason." House pointed out. "It's just that your reasons are bullshit."

"I know, okay?" Anthony replied defensively. "I'm the one who found you in that bar, I'm the one who built you up, I'm the one who thought the world of you _first_." He sighed heavily, letting his hand drop. "Now that others have come to...appreciate you, I'm having a hard time. You've changed, and that's not a bad thing. It just means some adjustments on my part that I wasn't quite ready for."

House's mouth twitched in a slight smile. "A little jealousy is kind of cool. More than that is just plain creepy." He reached out and wrapped a hand around Anthony's neck. "Just remember who I chose, okay?"

Anthony closed his eyes at the feel of House's warm hand. He responded in kind, touching his forehead to House's. "I keep reminding myself of that." He sighed a little. "I'm really proud of who you've become. I don't want you to go back to the way you were. This...new you is just going to take some getting used to, that's all."

House could feel the lump rise in his throat. He tried to remember the last time someone had expressed pride in him and failed. "Seriously? You're proud?"

"Damn right." Anthony grinned and lightly kissed House. "Has no one told you that?"

"Can't remember the last time."

"Well...I hope this won't be the last time you hear it."

House quickly captured Anthony's lips in a firm kiss, pushing his tongue forward to tangle with the younger man's. His emotion was starting to get the better of him, and he broke away nearly as quickly as he had started, leaving Anthony a bit breathless. "I should go."

"Probably." Anthony sighed, only cursing House's determination to attempt to stick to their agreement slightly.

Within a few minutes House had his coat and shoes on, keys in his hand. He paused before he opened the door. "You want to try that dinner thing again tonight?"

"If you're free." Anthony didn't want to get his hopes up again.

"I'll make it happen." House limped over to the couch, bending down for a brief kiss.

"Then seven it is." Anthony answered, returning the kiss. "I'll see you then."

House nodded, a slight smile on his face as he left the apartment. Suddenly he was feeling a hell of a lot better about things. Maybe there was something to this talking thing after all.

# # #

**You know the deal. I write, you review, everyone's happy. :)**


	55. Chapter 55

**Sorry for the delay in updates. RL has been busy this weekend. As usual, I don't own them.**

# # #

Thirteen strode into House's office just before she prepared to leave for the evening, a pair of potential case files from the clinic in her hand. An unfamiliar masculine scent hung in the air, and her eyes went wide as she noticed what House was wearing. It wasn't what he had been wearing all day. He actually looked..._good_, for lack of a better word.

In place of his usual t-shirt and rumpled button down, House was wearing a deep burgundy button down shirt untucked over a pair of well-fitting dark wash jeans. Oxford shoes in place of his usual running shoes completed the look. Thirteen couldn't recall a time House had looked so pulled together for anything that wasn't work related.

"Something you want?" House's voice snapped Thirteen out of her state of shock. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I've really got somewhere to be."

"Case files from the clinic." Thirteen stepped toward House's desk and placed the files on his desk. "They looked interesting, so I thought I'd bring them up before I left. You look good, by the way."

House glanced down at himself as he buttoned his shirt cuffs, suddenly self-conscious. The saleswoman at the clothing store had assured him that the shirt suited him, though it was different from his usual parade of blues and whites that he would toss on over a t-shirt. "Thanks, I guess. Weren't you leaving?"

"In a few. Foreman's finishing his article. I figured I'd wait until he was finished." Thirteen answered. "So...dinner date?"

House rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Not that it's any of your business, but...yes. And I'm running late so if you don't mind..."

"Right." Thirteen's eyes narrowed as she observed House moving around his desk, clearly a little agitated. No, not agitated. This was different. The older doctor seemed...nervous. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." House answered sharply. He wished Thirteen would just leave him the hell alone and let him get out of here. He was feeling wound up enough without any extra help. Not that he wasn't looking forward to dinner with Anthony, but all the same...it just felt different, and he didn't know why. It shouldn't be any different from any of the million lunches they had shared at the deli. So what the hell was the problem?

It occurred to House that he and Anthony hadn't had a formal 'date', aside from the drag show, and that seemed like ages ago. He blew out a long sigh as he packed up his backpack, shoving in his work clothes a little harder than was probably necessary, completely unaware of Thirteen's presence.

Thirteen smiled a little at House's flustered demeanor. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and wasn't likely to see again. "Relax, will you? It's just dinner." She leaned over the desk with a coy smile. "And it's not like you've never met him before."

House paused briefly, Thirteen's words calming him despite himself. He limped over to the coatrack, putting on his coat before returning to his desk to sling his backpack over his shoulder. "Thanks for the pep talk. Now mind your own business."

Thirteen snickered to herself as House strode out of his office and down the hallway, leaving a trail of scent behind him. She hoped House's dinner date appreciated all the trouble he had gone to to impress him. She was sure House wouldn't bother for anyone else.

# # #

Anthony paced around nervously just outside the small restaurant near Simon's photography studio, on the lookout for House's car. He had given the older man detailed directions, but Anthony knew the place was still easily missed.

Shortly before seven o' clock, he spotted House parallel parking his car just across the street. He watched as the tall figure climbed out of the car and limped across the street, creating his own unique rhythm that Anthony had found himself falling into on more than one occasion as he had walked with him.

The older man greeted Anthony with a quick smile and a nod, and the two men entered the restaurant. Jeffrey's face lit up as Anthony approached him to request a table.

"Anthony! So nice to see you again." Jeffrey greeted him enthusiastically, glancing around him to appraise House. "Table for two, I presume?"

Anthony glanced behind him at House, who was frowning slightly as he wiped off his glasses that had fogged over from the cold. "Yes, please."

"Follow me." Jeffrey led them to a table in the back corner of the restaurant. "Your server will be with you shortly." He nudged Anthony slightly, whispering in his ear. "I see why you blew me off that night you and Simon came in here. He's darling."

Anthony snorted and House glared as Jeffrey breezed out. "What did he say to you?" House narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Apparently you're 'darling'." Anthony chuckled as House rolled his eyes, the flush in his cheeks obvious even in the low light of the restaurant. "What that means...I'm not entirely sure. I think he likes you."

"Sorry, he's not really my type." House opened the menu to look it over, avoiding Anthony's gaze.

"Good." Anthony reached out to touch House's hand, and the older man nearly jumped back in surprise. "Are you okay? You seem a little jumpy tonight."

House set down the menu with a huff, knowing there was no point in trying to keep anything from Anthony. Even if he did hide and deflect, Anthony would figure it out eventually. Better to just come right out with it. "Tonight just feels...different. I don't know why."

Anthony lightly stroked the back of House's hand with a thumb, nodding in understanding. "I don't think we've done a formal 'date' thing. Aside from the drag show and the movie, I mean."

"Is that what this is?" The waitress took their drink orders and quietly walked away.

"I'd like to think of it that way." Anthony shrugged. "If it helps you to think of it as just another dinner for us, that works, too."

House leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "I bought a new shirt for this thing. I've been a nervous wreck most of the day. Yeah, it's a date." His eyes flicked up to meet Anthony's. "I've never 'dated' guys."

"I know." Anthony sat back and appraised House. "It's different, but I like it on you."

"The shirt, or the nerves?"

"Both." Anthony answered. "It means you've got something invested in...us. That's a good thing."

House fell silent as the waitress arrived with their drinks and took their dinner orders. He played with the edge of his glass, looking thoughtful. Finally he looked across to Anthony. "And you're _not_ nervous? Not even a little?"

"Only because it's you. No other reason." Anthony smiled a little as he took a drink of his beer. "Being out in public with a man is just, well, normal for me. _That _doesn't make me nervous, not anymore."

House nodded, still staring at his glass. "So it gets easier, then. That's good to know."

Anthony laughed a little at House's discomfort. "It must be difficult coming out so late in life. It might make some wonder why you bothered."

House's mouth twisted in that familiar half smile. "_Someone_ convinced me that it was worthwhile."

"So this is all my fault?" Anthony looked vaguely amused.

"I wouldn't say _that_." House's face suddenly clouded over slightly. "Let's just say you...sparked something that was buried for a very long time."

Anthony nodded. "Which still doesn't quite answer the question. Maybe I sparked something, but you could have just as easily ignored it."

House took a long drink from his glass. He'd been wondering the same thing for months. "Don't have a good answer to that one. I guess it doesn't really matter now."

"I suppose you're right." Anthony agreed. They were here and together now, and the only thing that mattered was what lay ahead for them. "But you're still scared."

"I'd be scared if you were a woman." House replied, pausing when the waitress set their meals in front of them. "My commitment issues are non-gender specific."

Anthony was startled by House's easy admission. "That's...oddly comforting, I guess."

"Wasn't meant to be comforting." House answered calmly. "Just telling it like it is. You okay with that?"

"Very much so." Anthony's face lit in a warm smile. "As long as we keep being honest with each other, we can't go _too _wrong."

House's face flickered in a brief smile before he dug into his meal. Honesty seemed to be working for them so far. Might as well keep running with it.

# # #

Once the initial jitters were resolved, the two men settled into their usual casual chat, lingering over their meal long after most of the other customers had left. It was becoming more like one of their usual deli meals, but much more intimate, and House found himself relaxing more as the evening wore on.

Anthony was relaxing more as well, but one question still nagged at him. He leaned his chin on his hand and studied House curiously. "So, I just have to know something."

"What's that?" House gave Anthony a skeptical look over the remains of his steak and shrimp.

"How is it that you're into both men and women?"

An expression that blended amusement and discomfort crossed House's face. "That's...kind of a big question. How is it that you're only into guys?"

"I don't know." Anthony shrugged. "Just is."

"There you go." House answered. "Same here."

"Okay, okay, let me rephrase that." Anthony paused, pondering how to express his curiosity. "Who were you attracted to first?"

"Girls." House asserted. "No question. But...guys weren't far behind."

"Interesting..." Anthony leaned on the table.

"That's my line." House glowered mockingly.

"Right." Anthony affirmed. "So...I guess the fifty thousand dollar question is..."

"Summer after high school graduation." House told him.

Anthony's eyebrows shot up, mentally doing the math. "Okay, that's just...I mean, how?"

"It kind of started as a challenge." House sat back in his chair. "There was this one kid that was rumored to be gay. So, me always being the curious kind of kid, I had to seek him out. One thing led to another and..." House shrugged. "Scared the hell out of me when I _liked_ it."

"So what happened?" Anthony was hooked into House's story.

"We managed to keep things going for a while. Totally secret, of course, considering the time and place." House's mouth twitched, and his facial expression turned dark. "My dad happened to come home early one day and...found us. He..." House's mouth clamped down, and Anthony could see he was starting to shut down. "I got the beating of my life, his parents kicked him out of the house and...I heard he killed himself about three or four months later."

"God." Anthony was speechless.

"Yeah." House was quiet. He had managed to keep that memory to himself all these years. It had only come up during the many discussions about his father in therapy, and after all these years, it still hurt.

The silence stretched out between them until House broke it again. "It was only after I went to Mayfield that my sexuality even came up again. Dear old Dad left his marks on me, even after he died. When I got out and got back to work...things were different, somehow. I knew it, even if no one else did." He shrugged as he finished off what was left in his glass. "Guess you were the first one to figure it out."

Anthony shook his head. "I was taking a chance. I didn't know for sure. You weren't exactly sending out strong vibes."

House held out his hand, and Anthony took it, squeezing lightly. "I'm...really glad you took that chance."

Anthony smiled warmly. "I am, too."

A shadow appeared over their table in the form of a very amused Jeffrey. "Hate to kick you lovebirds out, but I've got to close up. Simon's waiting for me."

Anthony's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Well, we wouldn't want to keep you from that." He started to reach for the check, but House was quicker.

"I invited you, I'll pay." He asserted. "Pretty sure that's how that works."

"As long as somebody pays, it's all good." Jeffrey called out as he headed back to the front.

Anthony chuckled as they gathered their coats and headed toward the register. House handed over his debit card and signed the receipt, following Anthony out of the restaurant.

The cold breeze cut through them as they stood out in front, neither one of them willing to end the evening. Anthony took House's hands in his own, squeezing lightly. "I didn't mean to dredge up such a horrible memory for you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." House answered calmly, lightly kissing the younger man. "Things were just different then. If I were a few years younger..."

"You wouldn't be you." Anthony interrupted softly, cutting House off with a soft kiss. House deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him in close.

Anthony kept it going, reluctant to break away, and soon he and House were tangled in each other, paying no attention to their surroundings. It was only the sound of soft laughter that made them break apart, and Anthony turned to see Jeffrey shaking his head as he locked up the restaurant.

"Simon was right." He commented. "You two are _made_ for each other. Now go get a room or something."

"The man's a genius." House murmured after Jeffrey left. "Now, why didn't I think of that?"

"Because..." Anthony reminded him. "We weren't going to play sleepover during the week, remember?"

House huffed in annoyance. "Stupid rules. Who came up with that one?"

"It was mutual agreement." Anthony laughed as they started walking toward House's car.

"Can't believe I agreed to _that_." House growled as he leaned against his car, pulling the younger man in close. "Anything in the rules about vehicles?"

Something lit up in Anthony's eyes at the suggestion. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I did _anything_ like that in a car?" He glanced at the car skeptically. "You think we'll both fit in there?"

"I managed to make it work in a '78 Chevette once." House replied, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "Of course, the girl was only about five feet tall." He briefly kissed Anthony, fixing him with a steely look. "I'm game if you are."

Anthony briefly considered the idea before relenting. House was nothing if not creative, and Anthony's curiosity, among other things, was aroused. "I'm in. Unlock the doors."

A slow smile curved across House's lips as he pushed the button to unlock the doors, opening the passenger side door and climbing in. He put the seat as far back as it would go before reclining it fully. "Coming in?"

Anthony nodded, carefully climbing in and straddling House before closing the door behind him. The older man immediately pulling him in by the back of his neck for a long kiss, his tongue tangling with Anthony's, his other hand working the buttons of Anthony's shirt.

House pulled away, nipping at Anthony's earlobe as he worked his way down his neck, his hands spreading across the younger man's chest, lightly rolling his thumbs over his nipples. The move evoked a soft gasp as House's hands slid down his stomach to his waist, deftly undoing his belt buckle and his jeans, his hands moving further to slip under the waistband of both his jeans and his boxers.

A bit of fear rushed through Anthony. A million things could happen out here on the street. They could get busted by a passing patrol car, assaulted by an opportunistic passerby...suddenly his thoughts shifted as House pulled him in, his slightly spicy scent filling his nose.

_God_, this man was driving him to distraction. Anthony leaned in for a long kiss, quickly undoing the shirt that looked so damned perfect on him, running his hands over the rough hair of his chest. He still couldn't quite believe he had agreed to this, but he was too far into it now to want to stop.

House moaned softly into Anthony's mouth as he smoothed his hands all over him, fumbling as he undid House's jeans. Anthony could feel House reacting to his touch, and he shifted ever so slightly to maximize contact between them.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you." Anthony whispered into House's ear as he started to rock against House.

"So far, so good." House answered roughly, managing to work a hand in between them, stroking Anthony through the thin cotton of his boxers, his other hand caressing his back.

Anthony responded in kind, shifting so that more of his weight was on House's left side. It was still ridiculously awkward, but he was so lost in the feel of House's hands on him that it didn't matter.

House's mouth found an exquisitely sensitive spot at the base of Anthony's throat, sending his desire into overdrive, and he clutched at the back of House's neck as he went over, pressing himself against the older man with a ragged moan.

He reached through the opening of House's boxers, continuing to stroke the older man as he nipped at his neck, evoking all manner of sighs and groans from him as he arched upward, seeking more of what Anthony was giving. House wrapped the one arm that was around his waist tighter as he got closer, tangling the other in the hair at the back of Anthony's neck, taking hold as he tensed up and went over, relaxing with a heavy sigh as he collapsed against the headrest.

Anthony couldn't help but burst out laughing as he leaned down to kiss House. "Are you okay?"

"Better than okay." House joined him with his own low rumble. "That was fucking fantastic."

"You are crazy...in the best possible way." Anthony shook his head as he and House both buttoned up and refastened before the cold got to them both. "Leave it to you to find a loophole in the rules."

House simple shrugged as he brushed Anthony's bangs out of his eyes, a ghost of a smile crossing his rough features. "I didn't hear you complaining."

"That wasn't a complaint." Anthony carefully straddled House, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "That was most definitely a compliment."

"Good." House grinned as he pulled the younger man in close, taking in the scent of his leather coat and closing his eyes. "Busy tomorrow night?"

"Can't think of anything." Anthony murmured against House's shoulder.

"Bring your MSTs over. We'll order in Thai and get the weekend started right."

"Sounds good." Anthony answered. "I'll make sure to bring over all the Mike Nelson ones. I know how much you love those."

"You'd better not if you know what's good for you." House growled. "I will kick you right back out."

"No you won't."

"No, I won't." House sighed and stroked the back of Anthony's head. He released the younger man, finding his keys to unlock the doors and start the car. "You'd better go. I have a feeling we're on borrowed time out here."

"Right." Anthony opened the car door, stiffly climbing out and stretching himself out. House followed close behind, taking significantly more time, wincing slightly as he pushed himself out of the car. "You okay back there?"

"Yep." House answered, wrapping his arms around Anthony and pulling him in for a light kiss. "Just old and slow, that's all."

"I completely disagree with that." Anthony responded. "See you tomorrow."

House nodded, drifting his hand along Anthony's arm, squeezing his fingers lightly before releasing them. He watched the younger man go, waiting until he climbed into his car before he rounded the back end of his own car to get in on the driver's side.

The seat was already warmed up and the windows were starting to clear as he buckled up and turned on his I Pod. Aerosmith's 'Young Lust' started screaming out of the speakers, and he grinned to himself as he turned it up a little louder and pulled away from the curb. The damn thing really did have a mind of its own, and sometimes it had a knack for finding just the right song.

He pulled up in front of his apartment, shutting off the car and the I Pod. The memory that he had shared with Anthony at dinner came back to him. There had been more to the story than he had told, far more.

He remembered the phone call with his mother as if it were yesterday. They had been chatting idly about nothing as he was getting settled in for his first year of college, and she had brought it up, almost casually. _No, Mom, we weren't friends. I barely even knew him._ He still couldn't believe how easily the lie had slipped out.

It became just one more damn thing he blamed himself for. If he had simply let things be, the boy might still be alive today. Even then, his curiosity had hurt people, destroyed lives.

House was surprised to feel the tears spring to his eyes, finally mourning the death of the first man in his life, the first man to bring out what lay beneath. Somehow, things had managed to come full circle, right down to the fierce makeout session in his car.

It wasn't a '78 Chevette, and it wasn't a five foot tall girl. Everything else was the truth, more or less. This time, however, his relationship would no longer be carried out in secret. His father was long dead, and nobody else in his life seemed particularly bothered that he was with a man.

He took a deep breath and brushed the few tears that remained out of his eyes. Suddenly his plans for Christmas were crystallized. It seemed his mother wasn't the only one he needed to visit.

# # #

**It's that time again. Read and review.**


	56. Chapter 56

**Insert usual disclaimers here. I also don't own Mystery Science Theater 3000 or Gamera.**

# # #

House awoke the next morning, last night's memories still fresh in his mind, thanks in part to the odd dreams that had interrupted his sleep. His attempts to go back to sleep proved pointless, as usual, and he tossed the covers aside to stumble toward the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

He had considered calling his mother last night before realizing that not everyone in the world was a night owl. After filling a mug with sugar and coffee, he carefully made his way out to the living room and flipped open his phone to call her.

"Hello?"

"Morning, Mom."

"Greg!" Blythe's voice was bright and cheerful upon hearing her son's voice. "This is a nice surprise. Is everything okay?"

House twisted his mouth in amusement before answering. "Yeah, Mom. Everything's fine. Just called to...talk, I guess."

There was a brief pause before Blythe spoke again. "You never call just to talk. What's going on?"

House took a long drink of his coffee before replying. "I was thinking about coming down to visit for Christmas...if you weren't busy, that is."

On the other end, Blythe broke into a warm smile. "I would love to see you. Do you know the last time you were home for Christmas?"

House couldn't remember, and didn't care. It had probably been in his college years, and House was sure it had ended in some sort of fight between himself and his father. Small wonder he had managed to block it out. "Doesn't really matter, does it?"

Blythe sighed a little. "No, I suppose it doesn't. So, have you made any plans yet?"

"No. Figured I'd talk to you first." House opened up his laptop and his Internet browser, already checking flights as he and Blythe talked about nothing in particular.

"Well, as soon as you get some details, let me know." Blythe took a sip of her own coffee, debating asking her next question. "So...will you be bringing anyone with you?"

House froze, not sure how to answer. "I...don't know. Haven't really had a chance to ask him."

Blythe's curiosity was piqued. "Him?"

"Yeah, you know. Tony." House was puzzled. He hadn't talked to his mother about his break-up with Anthony, and he wasn't sure why she would assume anything different.

"Oh." Blythe paused awkwardly. "I...thought you two had broken up."

House's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Who told you that?"

Blythe sighed. The cat was out of the bag now. "Your friend called me. Robert, I think his name was. He has some sort of accent that I couldn't place."

_Chase. Of course. Little weasel._ "Yeah, that'd be him."

"At any rate," Blythe continued. "He told me you weren't handling it so well." She could feel the lump in her throat as she recalled the phone call. Chase had assured her that House would be fine, but Blythe could tell that there was more to the story that the young man wasn't telling her.

"That was an understatement." The words fell out before House could stop them. "But it's okay now."

"Are you sure?" A note of worry crept into Blythe's voice. "I wish you could tell me these things."

"I don't want to worry you." House answered, cursing himself for saying anything in the first place. "Nothing you could do about it anyway."

"You keep saying that." The worry changed to something like hurt. "I'm your mother. I _want_ to help you."

"Yeah, because you did such a phenomenal job when I was growing up." House snapped, almost immediately wishing he could take the words back. He pushed himself from the couch and paced around the room. "God, Mom...I'm sorry."

"No, you're right." Blythe couldn't deny the truth. "I turned a blind eye to things that I shouldn't have." Her voice went soft. "I'm your mother, and it was my job to protect you from hurt. I failed in that regard."

"You didn't fail..."

"I _did._" Blythe's voice grew insistent. "And I know there's nothing I can do to change that now. However...I'm very proud of the man you've become."

"Really?" By now House was in the kitchen, pouring another cup of coffee and leaning against the counter.

"Of course." Blythe continued. "You're at the top of a difficult field, you head your own department, and you solve the unsolvable. It's not an easy road you've chosen, but you've done well."

House couldn't help but wonder if his mother was only talking about the professional part of his life. "I've always chosen the hard way. God forbid I take the easy way for anything."

Blythe laughed gently. "Indeed. Where's the fun in that?"

"Exactly." House found himself chuckling a little as he glanced at the clock over his stove. "I've got to go do that working thing."

"Okay. Call me when you get your arrangements worked out." Blythe paused for a moment. "I'm glad you called, and I'm even gladder that you're coming to visit."

"Yeah, me too. Talk to you soon."

"I love you."

House froze at the words. "I...love you, too. Bye." He quickly closed his phone, stunned at the direction the call had taken. It was the last thing he expected her to say, but oddly enough, he was okay with it. He was even starting to look forward to the visit with his mother, and House found himself wondering what else might come out of it. The idea scared him a little, but for some reason it felt like a necessary thing. There was going to be more to this visit than simply reconnecting with his mother, House knew that much.

He sat down in front of his laptop and finalized his arrangements, already knowing he wasn't going to ask Anthony along. It just seemed like too much, too soon, and House wasn't ready to reveal so much of his past. He had revealed enough already. No sense taking the chance of freaking the younger man out. Not that much would freak Anthony out anymore, but still. For the time being this seemed the best way to handle things.

# # #

Wilson lifted his head when he heard the familiar sound of wood hitting his office door. "Come on in, House."

House entered, a sober expression on his face as he eased himself down on Wilson's couch. "You might want to find someone else to spend Christmas Eve with. I'm not going to be around."

"Oh?" Wilson's eyebrows shot up in interest. "Spending Christmas with Tony?"

"Nooo..." House halfheartedly glared at Wilson. "I'm going to visit my mom."

"Uh-huh." Wilson nodded in understanding. "And Tony's not going with you."

House huffed irritably. "Kind of soon for all that, I think. Besides, I'm pretty sure he's got a family to visit."

Wilson squinted in mild confusion. "You haven't talked to him about this yet?"

"Should I?" House looked baffled.

Wilson cringed internally, trying not to let it show externally. "You...have a lot to learn about relationships."

"Says the thrice-divorced man." House countered.

"Yeah, _that_ never gets old." Wilson merely rolled his eyes. "Just talk to the guy. You might be surprised at the reaction you get."

House twisted his mouth in thought. "I don't _want _him to come with me. Not this trip, anyway. There's too much...stuff I have to do while I'm there."

Wilson was still a little confused, but if House had made up his mind, there was little Wilson could say to convince him otherwise. "Do what you think is best. And tell your mom I said 'hi'."

"I will." House rose from the couch and limped toward the door. "See you for lunch?"

"Of course." Wilson answered absentmindedly as he returned to his case files. He shook his head as House left his office. The older man was definitely behind the curve when it came to relationships. Good thing he was a quick learner. Wilson had a feeling that Anthony wouldn't hesitate to guide House in the right direction.

He heard a gentle tap on his office door, and Wilson instantly knew who it was. "It's open, Lillian."

The neurologist entered with a wide smile. "Am I interrupting?"

"Never." Wilson returned Michaels' smile with one of his own. "What brings you this way?"

"Oh, I had a file to drop off to the department head." Michaels spoke casually. "And making sure we were still on for tonight."

"Sure." Wilson was once again a little confused. "I've had the tickets for a couple of weeks now. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Good." Michaels seemed visibly relieved. "It's just...I saw House coming out of here and...you know." She shook her head. "I suppose I'm being a bit silly."

Wilson rose from his desk and wrapped his arms around Michaels, kissing the top of her head, taking in her soft scent. "I think he's got his own thing going on."

Michaels smiled a bit against Wilson's chest. "I'm so glad to see him and Tony back together. They're such a good pair."

Wilson chuckled softly as he released Michaels. "You're a hopeless romantic, you know that?"

"I hardly think I'm hopeless." Michaels pushed herself up on tiptoe to leave a brief kiss on Wilson's lips. "And I think you like the romantic in me."

"I do." Wilson was warmed by Michaels' words and actions. "See you tonight."

She left Wilson with a warm smile, closing the office door behind him. Wilson chuckled to himself as he returned to his work. There was nothing hopeless about that woman. Nothing whatsoever.

# # #

A knock at House's door jolted him awake. Between PT, his counseling session, and clinic duty, he was physically and emotionally worn out. No wonder he had fallen asleep almost as soon as he had laid down on the couch that evening. "It's open!" He bellowed from the couch, not quite ready to move.

The door opened, revealing Anthony and a stack of DVDs. He frowned in concern when he spotted House sprawled out across the couch, already in sleep pants and a worn t-shirt. The older man almost immediately pushed himself into a sitting position. "Before you even ask...I slept like shit, I had a stupidly busy day, and I'm fine. Now, what did you bring me?"

A small grin danced across Anthony's face as he pulled out one DVD from the pile and presented it to House with a great flourish. "Only all three Gamera MSTs on one DVD."

"Get the fuck out." House immediately grabbed the DVD from Anthony's hand and examined the homemade cover. "These haven't been released on DVD. Where the hell did you find this?"

Anthony merely shrugged. "I know people."

"You are the man." House curled his fingers around the case and limped over to find the Thai takeout menu, handing it off to the younger man. "Pick something so I can call in the order."

Within the hour, the two men were settled in on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, deep into the movie and their food. House was amused when Anthony quoted the dialogue almost line by line.

By the end of the second movie, Anthony was stretched out along the length of House's couch, his head in House's lap. His eyes were starting to drift closed, and House found his attention drawn away from the movie and toward the man that was falling asleep on him.

House shut off the DVD player and brushed Anthony's bangs out of his eyes before moving to caress his cheek with a rough thumb. The younger man's eyes fluttered open, revealing their brilliant emerald green as he gave House a sleepy smile.

"Bedtime?"

House chuckled and smiled a little in return. "Kind of looking that way. Guess we've got all weekend to watch the rest of the movies."

Something in Anthony warmed at the thought. Of all the times he and House had spent together, these were the times he had missed the most. He pushed himself off the couch and started gathering up containers and beer bottles, taking them to the kitchen while House shut down the rest of the apartment for the night.

Anthony found House already cocooned in the covers, knowing it didn't necessarily mean he was asleep. He slipped in beside House, not the least bit surprised when the older man wrapped an arm around his waist and curled up as close as he could to him with a rough sigh.

"What's going on?" Anthony asked him gently as he covered House's hand with his own, intertwining their fingers.

A simple question, to be sure, but one with a very complicated answer, House knew. He wasn't quite sure where he wanted to start. "Talked to my mom today. I think I'm going to visit her for Christmas." He ventured.

"I take it this isn't a regular thing for you." Anthony glanced over, barely able to make out House's face in the darkened room.

House twisted his mouth in response. "I haven't been since...I don't even remember when. I'll bet she does, though."

"You can count on that." Anthony laughed softly. "The first Christmas I saw my mom after my dad died, she told me _exactly_ how long it had been, right down to the details."

House snorted at that. "So you're seeing her this year, too?"

"Nice segue." Anthony turned and kissed House on the forehead. "And yes. That was my plan, anyway."

"Seems like a good one." House paused briefly. "Not that I don't want you along, but...you know. I've got a couple other things that I want to do while I'm there, and...I kind of need to do them on my own."

Anthony had his own suspicions about House's plans, and his heart swelled with pride at the older man's inner strength and determination. "This wouldn't have anything to do with what you were talking about at dinner last night, would it?"

"Maybe." House's voice shook a little. "Like I said, I've got a _couple_ of things to do."

Anthony released House's hand, rolling over to face him while slipping an arm over his waist. "Do what you need to do. I'll have my phone on me if you feel like calling me while you're there."

House pulled himself closer to Anthony, pressing his body fully against the younger man and capturing his lips in a long, soft kiss. He broke away from Anthony, spreading his fingers out along his lower back. "Good to know you've got my back."

Anthony wanted to tell him that he had always had House's back, but he was sure House didn't necessarily see it that way. Not that Anthony could blame him. Instead he simply curled against the older man, lightly rubbing his back. Finally he spoke again. "Will you be back in time for New Year's?"

"I planned on it. Why?"

Anthony shifted again so that he looked House directly in the eye. "I was thinking...we should go to Jake's thing. If you're still interested, that is."

House looked puzzled. "Are you sure? We could always do our own thing."

"I'm sure." Anthony lightly kissed the tip of House's nose. "This guy's probably going to continue to be a part of your life, and by extension, a part of _our_ life. Might as well get over myself and get to know him a little."

House was surprised. "That's mature, even for you. What's gotten into you?"

Anthony sighed thoughtfully before answering. "I want us to work out, and anything that gets in the way of that is something I don't want. Jealousy seems like one of those things."

"Sounds suspiciously like you're thinking...long term. You sure you're ready for all that?" House couldn't help mocking the younger man a little.

"About as ready as you are." Anthony teased in return.

"You're in trouble then." House responded, a little quieter this time. "Maybe I won't ever really be ready."

"I can't speak for you, but..." Anthony trailed up and down House's spine with his thumb. "I've got the rest of my life. I'm in no hurry. What about you?"

House looked thoughtful, momentarily distracted by Anthony's caress. "I suppose I've got some time myself. I'll check my calendar and get back to you."

Anthony laughed and squeezed House around his waist. "You do that. I'll be around."

House closed his eyes, feeling himself drift off as he curled Anthony close to him. Things weren't perfect by any means, but somehow he was getting more comfortable with that. Maybe things didn't have to be perfect to work out.

It was an odd thought for House, but he simply chalked it up to being sleepy and not thinking clearly. He pushed it aside, preferring instead to enjoy the nearly perfect moment that was unfolding as he fell asleep, tangled up with the younger man that lay next to him.

# # #

**You know what to do. Read and review.**


	57. Chapter 57

**Back again, and still at it! Insert my usual disclaimers and what not here.**

# # #

Anthony awoke the next morning to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring at him, a slight smile crossing the older man's rough features.

"Something you want?" Anthony teased him.

"Mmm...not yet." House answered sleepily, lightly caressing the younger man's cheek with his thumb. "Old man's still sleeping."

"No hurry." Anthony moved closer, enveloping himself in the warmth that House's body and the covers provided. "It's still early yet."

"Good." House tugged the covers over them before wrapping an arm around Anthony as the younger man snuggled closer. If he could wake up like this every morning, House thought he might just die a happy man. He snorted at the uncharacteristically romantic thought, causing Anthony to stir.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." House murmured, kissing the younger man's forehead. "Just thinking."

"About what, hon?" Anthony closed his eyes at the feel of House's lips on his skin.

House wasn't sure he was ready to put his thought out there. "Just...you know...how much I like waking up with you...and...stuff..." He turned his head slightly to bury it in the space between Anthony's shoulder and neck, suddenly embarrassed at revealing so much of himself. "God, that sounded a lot better in my head."

"It sounded good coming out of your mouth, too." Anthony lightly stroked House's back, gently kissing House's exposed neck. "It was...dare I say it? _Romantic_."

House merely groaned slightly. "This is crazy. I thought I was past all...this."

"Past what?" The conversation was definitely taking a strange turn.

House blew out a long sigh, trying to make sense of his own jumbled thoughts. "I'm in love with you, maybe more so than I thought I was before. And it's fucking fantastic...until I realize that...I'm in love with a _guy_."

"Can I let you in on a secret?" Anthony whispered conspiratorially. House looked vaguely amused as he nodded slightly. "That whole 'I'm-in-love-with-a-guy' thing gets easier, too."

"That's a relief." House rolled his eyes as Anthony laughed softly.

"You know what else?" Anthony murmured.

"What?"

"I wouldn't mind waking up like this every morning."

House chuckled, a low rumbling sound that Anthony loved to hear. "Moving kind of fast, aren't you?"

"Just mentioning it for future reference." Anthony brushed a light kiss to House's forehead.

"I'll keep it in mind. You know, in case it comes up again." House spread his fingers out across Anthony's back.

Anthony snorted and pressed as close as he could to House. "Believe me, it will."

They were quiet for a long moment, their breathing the only sound in the room as they curled against each other, drifting in and out of sleep.

Before long Anthony awakened to the feel of House's rough hand wandering around under his t-shirt.

His lips quirked in a slight smile as he let House go, enjoying the touch. It wouldn't hurt to play possum for a few minutes.

Anthony's breath caught in his throat when he felt House's warm breath and lips on his neck, and when he heard House's low chuckle, he knew he was busted. "Wakey wakey, boy. Old man is...shall we say, no longer sleeping."

"Good." Anthony rolled over to his side to face House, finding a spot on House's neck that made the older man gasp out as he worked over it with lips and tongue while he slipped a hand under his shirt.

They managed to disrobe, clothes getting tangled with the covers as House roughly pulled Anthony on top of him, his hands wandering everywhere they could reach as they started to rock in steady rhythm, their tongues tangling as they almost seemed to fight each other for dominance.

Anthony broke away, starting a trail down House's scruffy chin, straight down his throat to the open spot between his collarbones, delighting to the soft sounds of pleasure that poured out of House as Anthony lingered over the spot with his tongue.

He continued working his way down, nipping and kissing, finding every sensitive spot until he reached House's core. Even then Anthony worked his way around, lightly stroking the inside of his thighs while pressing little kisses all over.

Just when House thought he couldn't take any more of Anthony's exquisite teasing, the younger man took him fully into his mouth, rolling his tongue over him while his hands roamed over him, settling over his stomach and spreading out.

The stimulation was more than House could take, and he unloaded, arching upward and clutching the back of Anthony's head until he stilled, finally relaxing his grip and stroking Anthony's head lightly.

Anthony created a trail back up House's stomach and chest, listening to the older man nearly purr with pleasure, ending with a long, sweet kiss as House wrapped his arms around him, spreading his hands over the younger man's back.

House slowly rolled Anthony over, never breaking away from his mouth as he spread his hand over his chest and stomach, feeling the younger man arch into his touch as he kept his hand moving downward. He took Anthony in his hand and started stroking him while he found a spot on the side of his neck, gently working over it with lips and tongue, hearing the soft gasps and moans above him.

He continued to travel down Anthony's body, making stops to linger over his nipples on his way through, following the trail down his stomach with his hand as he continued to stroke Anthony. Soon he replaced the hand with his mouth, running his tongue all over before taking him in fully, one hand caressing his stomach and chest while the other lightly trailed down his inner thighs.

Anthony was squirming under House's surprisingly tender hands and mouth, reaching out to touch the older man's back, his thumb running up and down his spine. House shifted once more so that he was in between the younger man's legs, speeding things up and pressing his hands into Anthony's legs, his thumbs running along his inner thighs. The move took Anthony over the edge, and he moaned softly as he relaxed, stretching out fully as House returned to lay beside him, dragging the covers with him as he did so.

House settled his head onto Anthony's shoulder as he pulled the covers over both of them, wrapping an arm around Anthony's waist as tenderly kissed the younger man's cheek.

"You're not even going to let me up to make coffee?" Anthony teased him as he wrapped an arm around House's shoulder.

"Not yet." House answered sleepily. "I kind of like this part."

"Is that right?"

"Mm-hm." House sounded like he was drifting back to sleep. "Went too long without it, I think. Didn't know what I had until I...didn't have it."

Anthony knew House wasn't just talking about him. He pulled House in closer to him, kissing him on the top of his head. "I've become pretty fond of this part myself. I'll make coffee in a little while."

"Whenever." House answered, feeling himself falling asleep. "No hurry here."

"Same here, hon." Anthony closed his eyes, letting the sound of House's breathing and his scent carry him back to sleep. There would be plenty of time for coffee later.

# # #

Later that afternoon, Anthony left House behind to head over to Michaels' house. He had promised to help her get ready for her party that evening, and he wasn't going to back out of that, despite House's attempts to convince him otherwise.

He smiled a little to himself as he pulled up in front of Michaels' house, immediately recognizing Wilson's Volvo parked in the driveway. House had warned him about what he called Wilson's 'Moose on a Jew' hat, but that still didn't fully prepare Anthony for the sight that greeted him when Wilson answered the door.

"Dear God, Greg was serious." Anthony snickered when he saw the green hat with a broad brim, antlers attached to the sides.

"What?" Wilson looked almost hurt by Anthony's reaction as he tugged on the strings that made the antlers clap like a pair of hands. "This kills on the pediatrics floor."

"Not literally, I hope." Anthony stepped through the door and stomped the snow off his boots, hanging his coat on the coat rack next to the front door.

Wilson merely rolled his eyes as he led Anthony into the kitchen, where Michaels was putting finishing touches on a plate of cookies. Her face lit in a bright smile. "Hello, Tony. I'd hug you, but..." She gestured to her hands and apron, still dusted with flour.

"No problem." Anthony wrapped an arm lightly around her shoulders and gave her a brief squeeze. "What can I do to help?"

Michaels quickly put Anthony to work, and between the two of them they got the food ready while Wilson put together the bar. She looked around the dining room with a satisfied smile on her face.

"The place looks fantastic." She wrapped an arm around Wilson's waist and gave him a squeeze. "Thank you for all your help, both of you. Now, if you don't mind...I've got to get cleaned up before guests show up."

Michaels brushed her hand along the small of Wilson's back as she walked away, padding upstairs to get ready for the evening ahead. There was an awkward silence between the two men, lasting until Wilson finally broke it.

"Beer?" The oncologist offered.

"Sure."

They settled in the living room, neither man sure what to say. Wilson blew out a long sigh and set his beer on the end table, sitting back on the couch. "House told me about...things, you know."

Anthony nodded. "Kind of figured."

Wilson was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm happy for him, of course, but..." He fixed Anthony with a hard stare. "I hope you realize that this is your last chance with him."

"I know." Anthony answered quietly. Wilson wouldn't come right out and threaten him, but the implication was clear. Hurt House again, and Anthony could kiss his ass goodbye.

The doorbell rang, and Wilson rose to answer it. "It's a damn good thing I like you." He grumbled as he made his way to the door.

Anthony sighed heavily as Wilson left the room, and he could hear voices in the foyer. One was female, the other male with an Australian accent. They entered the living room behind Wilson, Chase arching an eyebrow as he coolly appraised Anthony. Cameron stepped forward, lightly hugging him.

"Don't mind Robert." She told him softly. "He won't hold a grudge forever."

Anthony was a little puzzled until he remembered the story House had told him. "He's a good man. Better than I am."

"Don't be so sure." Cameron pulled back and smiled warmly. "I suspect you won't make the same mistake twice."

More people started to show up, and soon Michaels' house was packed with people, though House had so far failed to appear. Anthony stepped out onto the porch and pulled out his phone to call him.

Just as he connected with the older man's voice mail, Anthony spotted House's car pull up across the street. Anthony threw his hands up as House approached. "Where the hell have you been?"

House rolled his eyes, brushing a kiss to the younger man's cheek. "I just said I'd show. Never said when."

"You're..." Anthony simply shook his head and followed House inside. At least he made it. Anthony wasn't entirely sure that he would. He shoved a hand inside his jeans pocket, feeling the weight of the object there in his hand. Anthony had picked it up at his place on his way to Michaels' today, and he hoped to find an appropriate time to give it to House.

He blew out a short sigh as he made his way through the crowd, stopping to chat with guests along the way. It was a diverse crowd that had gathered here, everyone from work colleagues of both Michaels and Wilson to friends old and new. The atmosphere was festive, and Anthony couldn't help but get caught up in the merriment that surrounded him.

It lasted all of about five minutes before he spotted Chase making his way through the crowd, clearly headed in his direction. He appeared to have gotten a couple of drinks in him, and Anthony was getting nervous about how this could possibly end. There was no way to avoid the confrontation, of that Anthony was certain.

Chase approached him with a slightly glazed expression crossing his face, taking Anthony by the arm and drawing close to him. "We need to talk."

Anthony nodded, allowing the younger doctor to guide him to the foyer. He stood calmly as he watched Chase pace around, running a hand through his floppy blond hair. One lock insisted on falling into his eyes, and he seemed frustrated at his inability to control it.

Finally Chase stopped, folding his arms over his chest and fixing Anthony with a hard stare. "I don't like you. My wife might be ready to forgive you, but I am _not_." He crossed the room until he was nearly nose to nose with Anthony, the smell of alcohol nearly knocking him over. Clearly the young doctor had more than a couple of drinks in him. "He nearly drank himself to death over you. Did you know that?" His fury was clearly building, and Anthony was more than a little scared of what Chase might do. "How _dare_ you just...waltz into his life again, as if nothing had ever happened?" Chase stabbed him in the chest with one finger. "You broke his heart once. You won't get a chance to do it again. If you _ever_ hurt him again...you're a _dead_ man."

The young doctor turned away, and Anthony thought the worst was over. Suddenly he saw Chase pause, clenching one fist, his whole body shaking.

He whipped around, swinging his fist in a rage. Anthony had the advantage of both height and sobriety, and he easily caught Chase's fist before it made contact. He tightened his hand around Chase's shaking fist, waiting for the young man to calm himself somewhat.

Chase's eyes still blazed furiously as he lowered his fist. Anthony took a deep breath before speaking. "Look, you're angry at me. I get it. If it were me, and Greg were my friend...I'd probably want to do the same thing." He released Chase's fist and stepped back a little. "Taking a swing at me won't do a damn bit of good. He's an adult, and he makes his own decisions."

"Well...he's making a damned foolish one right now." Chase narrowed his eyes and spit in Anthony's face, taking him completely by surprise. "Bastard."

"Chase, for Christ's sake!" House's bellow rang out in the foyer. "Take your knight-in-shining-armor act somewhere else."

Chase glared at House. "You're a goddamn idiot. I didn't save your life so you could just..." He shook his head as he left the foyer. "Fuck it. You wouldn't listen anyway."

House twisted his mouth a little as he watched Chase leave, puffing out his cheeks and placing a hand on Anthony's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Anthony sighed remorsefully as he wiped his face. "You should be grateful, you know."

"Why?" House frowned, baffled by Anthony's response.

"Because you have people in your life who care enough to give me shit for what I did to you."

House snorted. "That's one way to look at it, I guess. Or you could look at it like...people who can't mind their own damn business."

Anthony laughed softly and stroked House's rough cheek. "Hon, they're your friends. By definition, you _are_ their business."

The older man rolled his eyes and started to turn around to leave, but Anthony grabbed his hand before he could do so. "Not so fast, old man. Got a little something for you."

House regarded Anthony with a mixture of interest and suspicion. "What is it?"

"First of all..." Anthony drew closer to House, wrapping one arm around him to distract him while he fished around in his pocket. "The Gamera DVD? That's yours to keep."

"Cool." House smiled a little, those bright blue eyes lighting up in child-like excitement.

"Second of all..." Anthony produced a small box from his pocket. "I got you this."

He placed it in House's hand, watching the older man's eyes go wide with something Anthony couldn't quite place. House pulled back slightly, turning the box over in his hand before untying the ribbon and opening the box. "What is this?"

Anthony pulled the object out of the box, dangling it from its black cord. The silver pendant shone in the soft light of the foyer as House looked on with interest. "It's a phoenix. I bought it back when...well, you know. I was going to give it to you when you got your department back, but...we weren't exactly on speaking terms then."

His heart was pounding in his chest, waiting for House's reaction. Anthony knew House wasn't typically a jewelry person, but when he saw this pendant online, he couldn't resist it. By the time it had come in the mail, he and House had already broken up, but he couldn't bear to get rid of it. Instead, he had held on to it, hoping against hope that he would have the opportunity to give it to House.

House took the pendant in his hand, carefully inspecting it. He tried to recall a time when he had received such an intimate gift and failed. "It's...wow. I guess I don't know what to say. Thanks?"

Anthony laughed as House pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You don't have to wear it if you don't want to. I know you're not really a jewelry guy."

"I am now." House immediately put the pendant over his head, and Anthony couldn't help but admire it on him. The head of the phoenix was barely visible over the button of his open necked shirt, and House glanced at Anthony with a worried frown. "You like?"

"I do." Anthony wrapped both arms around the older man, gently kissing him on the lips. "More importantly...do _you _like it?"

House looked thoughtful, reflecting on the events that had brought him from absolute rock bottom to where he stood now, in the arms of the man he had come to love and care for so deeply. He nodded firmly. "Yeah, I do. It's actually kind of...perfect."

He wrapped one hand around the back of Anthony's neck, pulling him in for a long, sweet kiss. At that moment, nothing else in the world existed except the two of them, and House wanted nothing more than to keep the feeling going. If for some odd reason this wasn't real, he didn't want to know.

"House, I..." Wilson stopped short when he came across the pair in the foyer. He was startled at first, then shook his head. "Never mind." He muttered as he turned to return to the party. He couldn't even remember what was so damned important just then.

House turned when he thought he heard a noise behind him, breaking away from Anthony. They were still alone in the foyer, and House dropped one more kiss on Anthony's lips. "How much longer do we have to stay at this thing?"

Anthony snorted before breaking into a wide smile. "I think we've been sufficiently social. Let me say good bye to a few people. I'll be right back."

House leaned on his cane as he watched the younger man go, listening as he made his social rounds. He smiled to himself as he fingered the pendant that now rested on his chest. The thing was surprisingly heavy for its size, the brightly polished silver catching the low light in the foyer. He still couldn't believe Anthony had gotten him something so personal, never mind that he had held on to it for so long. It blew his mind in the best possible way.

Anthony soon returned, handing the older man his coat. "Ready?"

"Yep." House put on his coat and placed a small kiss on Anthony's cheek. "Meet you at my place."

"Sounds good." Anthony responded. "See you soon."

The younger man left, and House heard footsteps behind him, followed by a distinct accented voice. "You're still an idiot."

House rolled his eyes, taking into account the young doctor's state of inebriation. "And you're drunk. What's your point?"

Chase leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. "I just...don't want to see you get hurt again, that's all."

"And you think I do?"

"I know you don't." Chase pushed himself off the wall and half-stumbled toward House, heavily placing a hand on his shoulder. "I also know you don't really want to be alone. Are you sure you're doing this for the right reasons?"

"As sure as I can be." House glared, and Chase immediately removed his hand. "Now if you don't mind...I've got someone waiting for me."

Chase watched as House closed the door behind him, letting out a long sigh. He felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and his wife's head against his back. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I guess." Chase's tone suggested otherwise, but Cameron chose not to press it.

"He'll be okay." Cameron assured him. "And if he's not...he can handle it now. He's got people he can count on."

"Guess you're right." Chase agreed, squeezing Cameron's hands before turning to her. "Who would have thought, huh?"

"Not me." Cameron laughed. "Now how about we get back to that party? I think I hear Wilson singing some Christmas carols."

"A Jew in a reindeer hat singing Christmas carols? Now this I've got to see." He followed Cameron back to the party, his concern about House pushed to the back of his mind as he joined the impromptu singing. Maybe House really would be okay now. He supposed he would just have to wait and see, and be ready to catch House if he fell again.

# # #

**Back to you, readers. Read and review. :)**


	58. Chapter 58

**Insert usual disclaimers here. Don't own them. Never have, never will, but I still like playing with them.**

# # #

House instantly recognized Anthony's car as soon as he pulled up in front of his own apartment building. As soon as House shut off his headlights, the younger man climbed out of his car and waited near the trunk for House to emerge.

"You weren't waiting long, were you?" House wrinkled his brow slightly as he limped heavily toward the front door. He had stood for far too long tonight, and his leg was only too happy to let him know. "Chase kind of caught me on the way out. Something's wrong with that boy."

Anthony shrugged as he followed House. "He cares about you. What's wrong with that?"

House shook his head as he unlocked the doors and entered the apartment, toeing off his shoes at the door. "Just never pictured him as a violent drunk, that's all."

"It's okay. Really." Anthony told him firmly as he followed House's suit, padding toward the kitchen as House limped down the hallway to the bedroom. "You want coffee?"

"No." House answered as he sat on the bed and found his pain meds, popping a couple with the water bottle on his bedside table. "Think I'd rather just go to bed."

Anthony smiled a little as he locked up and shut off lights on his way to the bedroom. "Was that a euphemism?"

As soon as he spotted the slightly pained expression on House's face, he regretted the words. He changed into sleep pants and a t-shirt and slipped into bed beside House, lightly squeezing him around his waist. "Everything okay?"

"Yep." House's voice was tired. "Just stood on the damn thing too long, that's all."

"You took something for it, right?"

House rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom. Should be kicking in any minute now."

Anthony snorted as he patted House and rolled over to his other side. He felt House shift and roll over, and soon the older man was curled against him, his newly familiar spicy scent drifting over him as his arm snaked over his waist. "Those must be some fast-acting drugs." He teased gently as he covered House's hand with his own.

"Just wanted to get close to you. Is that a crime now?"

"Not at all, hon." Anthony told him. "The closer you are, the better I like it."

"Jesus." House snorted. "Who's the mushy romantic now?"

Anthony laughed and turned over so that he was facing House, lightly fingering the pendant that hung around House's neck. "I'd hardly call you mushy."

House merely snorted and rolled his eyes, pulling in the younger man and taking in his familiar crisp scent. There was a small part of him that imagined doing this every night, just simply sharing his space, his bed, his heart with this man. It scared the shit out of him.

He sighed a little and closed his eyes, waiting for the meds to kick in so that he could get some sleep. Maybe a few days apart wouldn't be such a bad thing for them. House wasn't quite ready to get _that_ close to Anthony again so soon.

The younger man shifted and mumbled something as he started to fall asleep, and House couldn't help but be a little bit amused. He opened his eyes and lightly stroked his hair, watching Anthony sleep for just a moment.

House pushed aside his indecisive thoughts as sleep started to overtake him. Nothing had to be worked out right this minute. Far better to enjoy what he had right now.

# # #

Anthony awakened the next morning to an empty bed. He was baffled until he smelled fresh coffee and heard the sounds of House at the piano. It was barely light out, so Anthony knew it was still early. Something must have woken the older man up, and it set off an alarm in Anthony.

He padded down the hallway to the living room to see House bent over the piano, gently playing something Anthony didn't recognize. Judging by the expression on his face, House didn't seem to be in pain, although he looked vaguely troubled.

Anthony continued on to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee before returning to where House sat at the piano. He had finished his piece and was resting his hands on his thighs, appearing to be deep in thought. Anthony took the opportunity to lightly rub him between his shoulder blades.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Nope." House closed his eyes, soothed by Anthony's hand on his back.

Anthony took a seat next to House on the piano bench, and he couldn't help but think of all the conversations the two of them had shared right here. He mouth quirked upward at the other things they had shared here as well, but he pushed those memories aside in favor of concentrating on the moment that was happening right now.

"So...what's going on?" Anthony moved his hand from between House's shoulders to rest on the older man's waist, pulling in close. House, much to his surprise, didn't so much as flinch at the move.

House merely shook his head and resumed his playing. "Just had some funky dreams, that's all. I couldn't get back to sleep, and I didn't want to wake you up, so...I came out here."

Anthony simply kissed House's shoulder and took a long drink of his coffee. "You're getting pretty good at running that coffeemaker. I should let you make it all the time."

House's lips quirked upward in something like a smile. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Then you could brag that you were the one who domesticated Gregory House."

Anthony broke into a grin at that idea. "I'm not sure that's possible. Hell, I'm not sure I'd even want that."

"Eventually you might. Ever consider that?" House could feel some of his old doubts creep up on him.

"Can't say I've ever thought about it." Anthony answered. "Besides, I wouldn't want things to get boring."

"Yeah, that'll happen." House snorted and leaned over to give Anthony a soft kiss, letting it linger as he swept his tongue inside for a taste of the younger man's coffee-flavored mouth.

"Mmm..." Anthony murmured as he finally broke away. "If you're going to keep doing that, you have to at least let me set down my coffee."

"Well if you're going to put all _those_ restrictions on me..."

Anthony set down his mug and turned toward House, gently cupping his face in his hands, feeling the rough stubble underneath as he leaned in to return the kiss, capturing the older man's lips and slipping his tongue just inside. He tasted like his sweet coffee, and it blended with the scent that still lingered on him from the night before to create a mix that was uniquely House, uniquely enticing.

House made some sort of soft noise in response, shifting ever so slightly to press further, his tongue tangling with Anthony's as he wrapped his arms around his waist. His hands found their way under the younger man's t-shirt, one hand caressing his back while the other raked through the rough hair of his stomach and chest.

Anthony broke away long enough to shift so that he was straddling the piano bench, pressing against House with a wicked grin. "Kind of getting a sense of deja vu here."

"Got a problem with that?" House growled as Anthony's lips and hands journeyed over his body.

"Nope."

"Good." House moved so that he was able to swing one leg around the end of the piano bench, arranging himself so that he faced Anthony. He seemed to study the younger man's face, his intense blue eyes boring into him as he ran his hands up and down his thighs. Finally House leaned in for a long, deep, lingering kiss, his hands moving from Anthony's legs to his back, spreading out under his shirt, evoking a low moan from the younger man.

House pushed Anthony's shirt up further, breaking away from him just long enough to take it off him and toss it to the floor before returning to roughly close his mouth over Anthony's once again, pushing forward with his tongue, demanding entrance.

Anthony moved in closer, arranging himself so that he could place one of his legs over House's, gently moving House's right leg so that it was over his own left. Their groins were pressed together, and Anthony could hear House's breath catch in his throat at the move.

Anthony placed his hands at House's waist, lightly caressing the skin underneath as he broke away from House's mouth to move down to lay a line of kisses along his stubbled jaw all the way up to the space between his jaw and his ear, delicately caressing the spot with his tongue.

House's response was immediate. He took in a shaky breath and pulled Anthony in as close as he possibly could, his hands slipping just under the waistband of the younger man's sleep pants at his back while his mouth traveled down to find an especially sensitive spot on his neck, working over it with lips and tongue, occasionally nipping at it with his teeth.

"Greg..." His name came out as a mere whisper as Anthony pushed House's t-shirt up and over the older man's head, tossing it aside to join Anthony's. House started to remove the pendant, but Anthony stopped him with one hand. "Leave it on."

If House was puzzled, he didn't show it as he merely resumed his actions, pulling Anthony in and rocking against him. The younger man gasped softly at the sensation, and soon they were moving against each other in steady rhythm as their mouths and hands continued to explore each other, bringing each other ever closer to that familiar edge.

House could feel himself about to go over, and he suddenly grabbed Anthony by the nape of his neck, crashing his lips against the younger man's for a crushing kiss as he went over, taking Anthony with him. They held on to each other, tensing as they rode out the explosion, only releasing each other as they came down, resting their heads on each other's shoulders.

Anthony heard a low chuckle from House, and he felt the older man's arms tighten around him as he laid a soft kiss on Anthony's neck. He couldn't help but smile and respond with a warm hug of his own. "What's so funny?"

House sighed a little before answering. "I just keep thinking...I'm too old for all this." He paused thoughtfully. "Then again, maybe I'm not, and maybe I could do this for...a good long time, anyway. Probably not forever, but..." His voice trailed off as he rested his chin on Anthony's shoulder.

"Forever's a long damned time, hon." Anthony replied, lightly rubbing up and down House's back.

"I know." House was suddenly quiet. "It's been a long time since I've even thought that far ahead."

Anthony closed his eyes at House's words. It had been years since he had even considered moving forward with someone long term himself. "You think we have...possibilities?"

House didn't answer at first, and Anthony was worried that he'd moved too fast. "I think..." He answered carefully, "...that it's possible. We could possibly explore that possibility."

Anthony laughed softly and squeezed House, reveling in the feel of House's body against his. "I think I'd like that."

House spread his hands out over Anthony's back, taking in his scent and the feel of his warmth against him. The idea of moving forward with Anthony scared him, but the idea that Anthony seemed to feel similarly was oddly comforting. Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.

Finally he released the younger man, letting his hands trail along his waist as he did so. "Come on, boy. Shower time."

A slow grin spread over Anthony's face. "I assume you want help."

"Always." House's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Now get off me. When did you get so damned heavy, anyway?"

Anthony snorted as he pushed himself off House, offering a hand up to the older man. It always amazed him how House could switch emotional gears so quickly, and he decided that even if House ever became 'domesticated', he would never, ever become boring.

It was a thought that was further confirmed in the shower as they did a hell of a lot more than clean up before retiring to the bedroom to slip into their formerly familiar Sunday routine. As Anthony curled up against House, he found himself thinking that he just might want to do this for as long as he possibly could. It was a frightening idea for someone who had never had a burning desire to settle down, but it was an idea Anthony thought was worth exploring a little further.

# # #

Anthony's eyes flew open when he heard a loud pounding at House's door. The older man shifted as if he were about to awaken, but didn't make a move to answer.

"You want me to get that?" Anthony murmured, ready to get up.

"Nah, I'll get it." House muttered as he shifted to a sitting position. "Pretty sure it's for me anyway."

House limped down the hallway as the pounding continued, grumbling as he finally reached the door and flung it open. He was startled to find a rather contrite Chase standing before him, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, his words suddenly failing him.

"What do you want?" House's eyes bored through him, waiting for a response.

"Actually...it's not you I came to see." Chase was suddenly nervous. "I was kind of hoping to talk to Tony."

House threw Chase a skeptical look, but stepped aside to let him in. He made his way down the hallway to the bedroom where Anthony still lay curled up under the covers.

He eased himself onto the bed, placing a gentle kiss on the younger man's forehead. "You'll never believe who's here for you."

Anthony blinked briefly before shifting to a sitting position. "Who would be here for me?"

"Chase."

Anthony's eyes went wide. "What could he possibly want?"

"I don't know." House huffed irritably. "Just go find out. The quicker he leaves, the quicker we can..."

"Got it." Anthony snorted and threw back the covers as he pushed himself out of bed.

He padded down the hallway, meeting Chase at the door. His heart fluttered in his chest, not sure what to expect from the young doctor. After he had taken a swing at him last night, Anthony got the feeling all bets were off between them. "Something you wanted?"

Chase glanced around, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "I wanted to...apologize. You know, for last night."

Anthony frowned slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for Chase to explain further. Finally the younger man sighed, running his hand through his hair, daring to meet Anthony's penetrating green eyes. "I just...I don't want to see him hurt again. When I had to practically scrape him off the floor of this apartment...it was just too much." Chase swallowed hard at the memory of seeing House nearly wedged between the couch and the coffee table, unconscious, barely breathing. "I've only seen him anywhere nearly that broken one other time, and that was when Wilson left."

Anthony unfolded his arms, tilting his head as he listened to Chase. As he had suspected, the young man was merely reacting in defense of the man he had come to befriend. Anthony closed some of the distance between them, daring to place a hand on Chase's shoulder. "You're a good man, and a good friend to Greg. Believe me when I tell you that I get what you were doing."

Chase winced a little, still embarrassed at his own behavior. "I suppose I could have been a bit less dramatic about it."

Anthony shrugged. "It's the principle of the thing. Who's to say I wouldn't do the same thing in your situation?"

Chase internally sighed in relief. "Thanks for understanding."

A smile crept across Anthony's face. "And thanks for looking out for Greg. I get the feeling he hasn't had a lot of that in his life." He released Chase's shoulder and backed away slightly. "And you won't have to follow through on your threat. I have no intention of ever hurting him again."

Chase wasn't quite sure what Anthony was talking about. Last night's events were still a little fuzzy, but his wife was kind enough to give him the condensed version of his behavior. That, along with some encouragement from Cameron, was what had brought him here. "I suppose...we'll see."

"Are you about done with him?" House's voice pulled Chase out of his thoughts as he limped up behind Anthony, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Because I'm nowhere _near_ done, if you know what I mean."

Chase flushed briefly as Anthony rolled his eyes in amusement. Anthony patted House's hand affectionately. "I think we've come to an understanding."

Chase glanced at the two men that stood before him, noting House's almost possessive behavior towards Anthony. Clearly there was no real problem here. "I believe we have. See you around, House."

The apartment door closed behind him, and House snorted derisively. "So what's up with you and the wombat?"

"Nothing." Anthony answered, turning to wrap the older man in a warm hug. "Like I said, we've come to an understanding about you." He planted a brief kiss on House's lips. "I guess you're not the only one I have to prove myself to."

"You don't have to prove anything to me." House mumbled, averting his eyes.

"Yes, I do." Anthony insisted. "In your friends' eyes, and in yours, I'm not entirely trustworthy. I understand that, and...I suppose only time is going to change that."

"Time is something I've got plenty of." House answered, pulling the younger man closer to him, pressing a series of soft kisses up and down the side of his neck while taking in his clean, crisp scent.

"Same here." Anthony answered softly. He didn't want to come right out and say so, but he would have waited the rest of his life for House if necessary. Anthony was grateful that he hadn't needed to. "I love you, you know."

"I know." House murmured, a slow smile crossing his rough features. "Right back at you."

Anthony snorted as he let House guide him to the couch, fully expecting the older man to initiate something again. Instead he stretched out on the couch, pulling the younger man on top of him and draping his arms over his back. "Everything okay?"

"Yep." House answered. "Just getting as much of _this_ as I can before I leave tomorrow. Going to be a few days before I get it again."

Anthony shifted so that he more or less lay on House's chest, taking in his scent and listening to his strong, steady heartbeat. Even though they would only be apart for a few days, he found himself wanting to commit this moment to memory, a little something to take with him while he spent a few days with his own family. "How are you getting there?"

"Driving." House answered. "I'd kind of like to see how the old girl performs on the highway."

Anthony laughed in response. "You'll keep in touch, right?"

"Aw...are you going to miss me?" House teased, kissing the top of Anthony's head.

"Of course." Anthony replied. "Always do."

House was quiet for a moment before finally murmuring into Anthony's hair. "Same here."

Anthony smiled as he closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of House's heartbeat. It would be a long week without him, but somehow it didn't seem like it would be such a bad thing. Perhaps there was a bit of truth to the old adage about absence making the heart grow fonder after all.

# # #

**All yours, readers. Read and review. :)**


	59. Chapter 59

**Finally back with another update. Once again, don't own House. Never have, never will.**

# # #

House sighed heavily on Monday morning as he tossed a large duffel bag into the trunk of his car, slamming the lid. As much as he wanted to see his mother, this trip meant confronting more than a few ghosts that he wasn't sure he was ready to face.

Anthony was right beside him, gently reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "You're doing the right thing, you know."

"I know." House murmured, grateful that Anthony wasn't one to offer comforting platitudes. "Doesn't make it any easier." He quickly grabbed Anthony and pulled him in for a hug, taking in one more inhale of his crisp scent. "It's not too late for you to come with."

Anthony laughed softly, rubbing House between his shoulder blades. "We already talked about this, remember? If we're still together this time next year, I'll be only too happy to come with you."

House huffed and released the younger man, planting a brief kiss on his cheek as he did so. "Guess I'd better hit the road. See you in a few days."

Anthony nodded, squeezing House's hands as he separated from him. "Call me when you get there...and any other time you think you need to. A Christmas call might be nice, too."

House rolled his eyes. "Who are you, my mom?" He smiled ever so slightly. "I'll call, don't worry. Can't have you mooning over me all week."

Anthony snorted and shook his head. "If anyone's going to be doing any mooning, it'll be you."

House refrained from taking the easy opening, instead hitting the remote to unlock and start the car. Anthony reached out to touch his shoulder one more time before House climbed into his car. "Take it easy on yourself, okay? Rome wasn't built in a day, and...you shouldn't expect to fix everything in one trip."

House nodded, feeling a bit of his tension dissipate. Anthony was right. Of course he was right. While House's relationship with his mother had come a long way in the past couple of months, it still had a long way to go. That, coupled with his other missions, threatened to overwhelm him. He suspected Anthony would be getting more than a few phone calls over the next week.

The younger man brushed one more soft kiss to his lips before moving to whisper in his ear. "I love you. Be safe."

"You too." House murmured as he pulled away to settle into his seat and close the door. Anthony watched as he pulled away from the curb, the tires crunching on the snow. He sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket, finding the number he was looking for and dialing.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom." Anthony smiled a little at the sound of his mother's voice. "How are things?"

"Busy." She laughs, and Anthony can hear a pair of voices chattering in the background. "Your sister's here, and the girls have been asking about you."

"I'll be hitting the road soon. Just have to go home and pack."

"Is it just you?"

"Yes, Mom." Anthony sighed a little at the implication. "Greg's going to visit his own mother."

"Oh well. Perhaps some other time." Anthony's mom sounded a little disappointed. "I would like to meet him eventually."

Anthony rolled his eyes as he climbed into his car and started for his apartment. "Hopefully you'll get your chance. I've got to go, Mom. I'm driving."

"Okay, hon." His mom answered. "Call me when you get ready to leave."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Anthony closed his phone and drove back to his apartment. It wouldn't take him too long to pack and check in on his place before driving to his mother's. Shelby had the massage therapy practice well in hand, and he had already arranged for Simon to come over and keep an eye on his place while he was gone.

He sighed a little as he packed up and left. It would be a somewhat lonely week without House, no question. Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing for them, though. They had gotten ridiculously close again in a very short time, and Anthony wasn't sure such intensity was a good thing for them.

On the other hand, it felt so good to have the older man in his life again. The weekend had been nothing short of remarkable, and Anthony had enjoyed it immensely. He had reached a comfort level with House that he couldn't recall reaching with anyone else, Simon included.

He called his mom back before starting the car, thrilling to the sound of his squealing nieces in the background. They were always so thrilled to see him, and Anthony had to admit that he looked forward to his time with them.

As he pulled away and started down the road, he found his thoughts returning to House. He hoped that the trip was going well, resisting the urge to try calling him. House had only been on the road for a couple of hours. Best to leave him be and wait for him to call.

Anthony dropped his phone into the cup holder, determined to leave it alone for the remainder of the trip. In a couple of hours, he would be surrounded by the chaos that made up his family, and he would be too distracted to worry too much about House. That was his hope, anyway.

# # #

House pulled into a rest stop after about three hours of driving. It was about as much as his leg could handle before it started throbbing, insisting on a change in position. He had planned on calling Wilson, anyway.

He slowly climbed out of his car, taking a moment to walk off the stiffness and pain that had settled in. The cold made it worse, as usual, and he made his way into the building, pulling out his phone as he did so and finding Wilson in his contacts.

"Wilson."

"Jimmy, my boy. How the hell are you?" House answered with a bravado he didn't feel.

"House? Where are you? Everything okay?"

House rolled his eyes at Wilson's excessive show of concern. "Fine. Everything's fine. Just taking a little break from driving, that's all."

Wilson felt a little embarrassed by his somewhat emotional outburst. "Sorry. It's just...you know."

"Yeah, I know." House was briefly silent before continuing. "You're still going to check in on my place while I'm gone, right?"

"Of course." Wilson replied. "Is there something else going on?"

House thumped his cane on the floor, glancing around the empty lobby. Traffic was slow at this time of day, and he was still alone in the space. "I don't know yet."

Wilson knew an opening when he heard one. "Go on."

House huffed in either irritation or frustration. Wilson couldn't tell which. Finally the older man spoke. "There's a lot that I've been...avoiding. I'm about to come face to face with a lot of it, and I don't know what's going to happen."

Wilson was amazed by House's admission. He felt as if House had just handed him a small piece of his soul. "You don't have to know right now. When the time comes...you'll figure it out."

House sighed a little. This trip was about far more than dealing with his issues concerning his parents, but House wasn't willing to tell Wilson the rest of it. "I guess. I've got to go. Got a lot of miles to cover."

"Call me when you get there." Wilson told him. "Don't worry about the time. Just let me know you made it there in one piece."

House chuckled slightly. "What if I get there in multiple pieces? Seems that would be way more interesting."

Wilson rolled his eyes in exasperation. "If you get there in multiple pieces, chances are it won't be you calling me anyway. Just call me, okay?"

"I will." House couldn't help but laugh at his friend's reaction. He could almost hear the eyeroll through the phone. "Talk to you later."

"Bye." Wilson hung up, and House snapped his phone closed, tucking it inside his coat. His leg felt better after walking around, and he even felt oddly comforted by Wilson's words. Knowing Wilson had his back made all the difference in the world.

He climbed back into his car, starting it and getting back on the highway. His thoughts were consumed by what would be waiting for him when he got there. He had found the last known address for the young man's parents, but he had no idea what he would do or say if they still lived there.

Part of him wished he had just left the memory buried. On some level, it would have made things so much easier. On the other hand, would he have what he had with Anthony if he had continued to bury this part of himself?

That was a harder question to answer. He and Anthony, despite his attempts to the contrary, had almost regained their former closeness in a very short time. House still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

The questions continued to turn over in his mind as he continued his journey. After making multiple stops, he finally pulled into his mother's driveway, blowing out a long sigh as he put the car in Park and shut off the ignition.

He pulled out his phone and found his mother's number in his contacts, hitting the send button. Hopefully she would still be awake, although that seemed unlikely given the lateness of the hour.

"Hello?" Blythe's sleepy voice answered the phone.

"Hi, Mom." House replied with a slight grin.

"Greg?" Blythe immediately sounded a lot more awake. "Where are you?"

"Just pulled up. Look outside."

There was a pause, followed by soft laughter from Blythe. "Well, don't just sit out there. Come in already."

House snapped his phone closed and climbed out of the car, stopping to drag his duffel out of the trunk before carefully making his way up the front steps.

This house had been his father's last stop just before retiring from the Marines, and it was here that he and his mother had settled in for the remainder of their time together. It was the closest thing House had to a childhood home. He had only lived here for a couple of years before leaving for college, and he could count on one hand the number of times he had visited since then.

His mother threw open the door, jolting House out of his ruminations. As soon as he crossed over the threshold, she wrapped him in a warm hug. "It's so good to have you here. I only wish..." She stopped there, silently cursing herself for the thought. Blythe was quite sure her son didn't share the wish. "I'm just glad you're here."

House nodded, slowly wrapping his free arm around her and squeezing her lightly. Suddenly he felt somewhat better about being here. "I'll just settle in and crash, if that's okay with you."

"Of course." Blythe released House, gently rubbing his arm. "You must be exhausted after all that driving. I thought you were going to fly."

"Changed my mind." House shrugged as his mother led him to his old bedroom. It had long since been turned into a guest room, any remnants of his former life long gone. It was just as well, House figured. This visit was haunted by enough ghosts without adding more to the mix.

"Do you need anything?" Blythe's voice was tinged with concern.

"No. Go back to bed." House answered as he found his phone again. "Just going to make a couple of calls before I sack out."

"Well, if you need anything..." Blythe smiled a little, trying to read her son.

"I'll be fine." House assured her as he sat on the edge of the bed. "See you in the morning."

She closed the door behind her, and House scrolled through his contacts. He had already called a very sleepy, grouchy Wilson to let him know that he had arrived safely. Now it was time for a more extended good night call.

On the other end, Anthony's phone started belting out "Doctor Love". His sister couldn't help but be amused at the choice of ringtone, and Anthony looked a little abashed as he flipped it open. "Hey, you."

"Hey." House answered. "I made it."

"Good." Anthony smiled a little, his fingers trailing along the tablecloth that covered his mother's kitchen table. "Same here."

"Cool." Both men were silent for a long moment as House stretched out on the bed, laying down to stare up at the ceiling. This room held more memories than he cared to recall at the moment.

"Everything okay, hon?"

"Don't know yet." House answered bluntly. "I'm in my old room. It's a little weird."

"I'm sure." Anthony rose from the table to wander around the kitchen.

There was another long silence, punctuated with a long sigh from House. "I should go. I'm beat. I'll call back in the morning, okay?"

Anthony was a little sad. He had hoped for a longer conversation, but after such a long drive, he was sure that House was in no shape for it. "Sounds good. I love you."

House slowly smiled on the other end. "Love you, too. Night."

He closed his phone and set it on the bedside table before pushing himself up and off the bed to change his clothes. Soon he was settled back into the bed, setting his glasses on the table next to his phone and laying back against the pillow while pulling the covers over him.

It wasn't as chilly here as it was back in Princeton, but without Anthony beside him, House was having trouble warming up. He huffed irritably and turned over to his side, cocooning himself under the covers. It was going to be a long damned week if this madness kept up.

# # #

The first thing House was aware of when he awakened the next morning was the smell of fresh coffee blended with something else. It dawned on him where he was, and he quickly threw back the covers and pushed himself out of bed.

He carefully made his way down the stairs to the kitchen, where Blythe was busying herself with cooking breakfast, chatting with someone House couldn't see.

Blythe turned her head when she heard her son limp in, slightly amused to see the scowl that crossed his face. Even as a child, House was never a morning person, and Blythe could recall more than a few occasions when she would have to coax him out of bed.

John, of course, would have none of it, often grousing about their son's lack of initiative, barking at him for what he saw as simple laziness. Blythe sighed at the memory. No wonder House had been home to visit so rarely when his father still lived.

"Good morning, dear." Blythe greeted House with a quick squeeze of his arm as he passed by. "There's coffee, and breakfast should be ready soon if you want it."

House nodded, still weary from the road trip and his erratic sleep. He had awakened several times in the admittedly short night due to some very disturbing dreams. There was nothing specific that he could recall, but they were frightening all the same.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, stirring in some sugar before turning to lean against the counter. After taking his first sip, he pointed his cane at the older man that stood near the back door. "Are you going to introduce your friend?"

"Oh, how silly of me." Blythe smiled nervously, crossing the kitchen to stand by the man's side. "This is George. He's been our neighbor for the last ten years. We've become good friends since your father...passed on."

House took the explanation at face value. If there was more than friendship there, he wasn't so sure he wanted to know. Instead he pushed himself away from the counter to extend a hand, switching his cane to his left hand as he did so. "Good to meet you."

"And you as well." The older man had a surprisingly firm grip. "Greg, right? Blythe's told me a lot about you."

House inwardly cringed. There was no telling how much his mother had told this man about him, and once again, he was pretty sure he didn't want to know. "Right."

Blythe seemed to sense the awkwardness between the two men, and she quickly smoothed over things. "Don't worry, I've told him nothing but good things about you. Now, why don't we eat?"

Breakfast was spent in relatively comfortable silence, and it was clear to House that there was a little bit more than neighborly friendliness going on between his mother and George. Soon the older man finished his breakfast, reaching out to lightly squeeze Blythe's hand. "Thank you for breakfast. I'll just be on my way."

"Of course." Blythe gave George a warm smile in return. "Would you like to come over for dinner?"

"Sure." George's face split in a wide grin. "Let me know when it's ready, and I'll be here. Nice meeting you, Greg."

House nodded in response, arching an eyebrow at his mother after George left. "Nice guy."

"He's a good neighbor, and a good friend, nothing more." Blythe answered crisply, rising to clear the table.

House followed, refilling his coffee cup and watching his mother move around the kitchen. "It'd be okay if it was more than that, you know."

"Don't be silly." Blythe laughed slightly, and House thought he could detect a hint of blush in her cheeks. "We're too old for anything like that."

House chuckled slightly and joined his mother at the sink. If his own experiences had taught him anything, it was that age didn't mean a damn thing when it came to love. Not that he would share that overly sentimental thought with her. He wouldn't want her to think he'd gone soft.

His mother hummed to herself as they washed dishes, and it vaguely reminded House of all those times his father was gone on some assignment, and it was just the two of them. How often had House wished it would always be that way, that something would happen to his father while he was out on assignment? He felt a stab of something like guilt at the thought, and found himself wishing for something a little different now.

"Are you okay, dear?" Blythe's voice was once again tinged with concern as she caught the pensive expression on her son's face.

"Yeah." House's rough voice caught him by surprise. "I...should have come seen him. You know, when he was dying."

Blythe reached out to touch House on the shoulder. "Stop. Please. It's over. Just...let it be."

House leaned forward against the sink. "But it's never really _over_, is it?" His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "I never even said goodbye."

Blythe's heart broke at her son's previously hidden pain. How long had he carried that around with him? She found herself at a loss as to how to handle the situation, simply rubbing House's arm in what she hoped was a soothing motion.

Suddenly she had an idea. "You know...I was planning on visiting his grave today. Would you like to come with me?"

House frowned slightly, rapidly blinking away unshed tears. "I don't want to, but...I think I need to."

"Then we'll go." Blythe squeezed House's arm before returning to finish the dishes. "Just let me know when you're ready."

House nodded firmly as he placed the last dish in the drainer. It would be difficult, but it was necessary, he knew that. Maybe he would find some peace there, but maybe he wouldn't. Somehow it felt like something worth trying.

# # #

**Back to you, readers. Read and review.**


	60. Chapter 60

**Nope, still don't own House. Still having fun playing with him, though.**

# # #

The drive to the cemetery was silent, Blythe and House each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Blythe easily found the grave site and parked on the road nearby, gracefully climbing out of the car and striding to the headstone. She bent down and started pulling a few weeds, and House could hear her quietly chatting as she worked, even though he couldn't quite make out what she was saying.

After the funeral the year before, House hadn't made it to the actual burial. Now he found himself regretting that move as much as he regretted the words he had said in his mother's presence during the eulogy. It seemed like he was feeling nothing but regrets on this trip, and it filled him with frustration.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found the now-familiar number in his contacts. Anthony answered on the second ring. "Hello, hello."

"Hi again." House spoke quietly, not wanting to attract his mother's attention. "What's going on?"

"Not much." Anthony answered slowly as his nieces climbed all over him. "Something's up with you, though."

He heard House's short snort, and he couldn't help laughing a little. "Yes, hon. You're that transparent. Now what's going on?"

"We're at his grave. My dad's, I mean."

"I see." Anthony sat up, gently encouraging his nieces to go elsewhere for a moment. "Are you...okay?"

"I don't know." House answered quietly. "She's talking to him, I think."

"Not unusual."

There was a long silence, and House finally broke it with a heavy sigh. "I don't know what I'm doing here. What the hell is this supposed to do, anyway?"

Anthony pushed himself to his feet and slipped out onto the three season porch, watching the snow fall in heavy flakes. "What do you want it to do?"

House took in a ragged breath, tears suddenly springing to his eyes. "I want..._fuck_...I want to _fix _things, somehow. Hard to do that when he's dead."

Anthony's heart ached for House, and he suddenly wished he was there with him to offer him some form of comfort. He was about to speak when House broke in again. "I wish like hell I'd been able to let some of this shit go. Maybe we would have been...better."

Anthony blinked at House's words, surprised to find tears in his own eyes. He hadn't thought about his own father in years, and he was surprised at the parallels, although he shouldn't have been. "It's not too late to let it go, you know. Too late for him maybe, but...not for you."

House snorted, a wet, almost choking sound. "Speak for yourself."

"I know." Anthony answered, shivering slightly on the cold porch. "I've got my own dad issues. You deal with yours, and I'll try to deal with mine, okay?"

"Okay." House seemed to pull himself together with a shaking breath. "Mom's coming. Guess I'll let you go."

"Good luck." Anthony told him. He paused briefly before continuing. "I'm glad you called me."

House chuckled softly. "Same here, I think."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah." House sighed heavily. "It's just...you know. Hard. I didn't think it would be. Anyway...I'll call you later."

"Okay. I love you."

A slow smile spread across House's rough face. "Yeah, you too. Bye."

He snapped his phone closed and tucked it back inside his coat pocket, thumping his cane on the ground as if to steady himself before limping toward his mother and the grave site.

She was still talking quietly as she cleaned up around the headstone, and House felt a wave of fear wash over him as he approached. _He's dead. He can't hurt you. He can't throw this in your face. Just do it._ He tried to remind himself of all these facts as he leaned on his cane, staring at the cold white stone that stood before him.

Blythe turned around, greeting her son with a small smile. She rose from her spot, gently squeezing his arm as she passed by, leaving House alone with his thoughts.

He blew out a long sigh as he moved closer, not sure where he wanted to start. "I'm not going to get on my knees here. My leg can't take that." He paused long enough to collect his thoughts, taking more than a few deep breaths before he continued. "I'm...not sure what to say to you. I guess...I just wish I hadn't been so goddamn stubborn, more than anything else. Not just when I was a kid, but when I was an adult, too. Maybe we would have gotten along better then." He twisted his mouth in thought. "The more I think about it, the more I think you weren't trying to hurt me. You really thought you were doing the right thing. I don't know, maybe you were trying to toughen me up, and maybe that was the only way you knew how to do it."

House closed his eyes, trying to filter out the good memories from the bad. Right now the bad were definitely winning, one moment in particular continuing to loop through his brain, refusing to shut off. His voice shook with emotion as he finally managed to choke out, "Dammit. If we'd just been able to accept each other as we were...we would have been a hell of a lot better off. Maybe I would have been able to tell all this to your face instead of to your fucking headstone."

Blythe felt a lump of emotion rise in her throat at her son's words. Heaven knew she had wished for nothing more than the same thing. How many times over the years had she pleaded with John to just pick up the phone and _talk_ to his son? How many times had she reminded him of their son's remarkable accomplishments?

It was obvious that John and their son viewed the world very differently, and Blythe couldn't help but feel sad and angry that the two had never been able to reconcile those differences. She stepped toward House, coming up behind him and placing her hands on his arms, squeezing lightly.

It was the final straw for House, and he fell apart completely, dropping his head as the tears fell unchecked, his shoulders shaking with emotion. He hadn't realized until now how deeply his father's death had affected him, how his unwillingness to grieve the loss had hurt him.

Blythe simply let him go, waiting for the initial emotion storm to pass. A part of her ached for her only child, knowing on some level how difficult this was for him. Even as a child, he had never shown emotion easily, accepting the punishments that his father doled out with a stone-faced countenance. It was only long after, when he thought no one else was around, that she would hear his quiet sobs.

It occurred to her that her son had carried this pain around for the better part of his life. No wonder, then, when the dam did finally break, that it did so with the equivalent of a earth-shattering crash.

Finally he seemed to calm himself, taking a deep, ragged breath and raising his head. House placed one hand over one of Blythe's, squeezing it gently before stepping away from her to limp toward his father's headstone.

He bent down ever so slightly, just enough to place one hand on the top of it, rubbing lightly. His next words were so soft that Blythe could barely make them out, and she decided they weren't really meant for her, anyway.

"_Goodbye, Dad."_ He whispered. "_I love you._"

He straightened up to his full height then, calmly striding toward the car, even as his face still showed the pain that Blythe was sure would never really leave him. She wanted to reach out to him, but right now he was in his own world, and she decided to leave him alone for the time being.

It was a quiet ride back to his mother's house, and Blythe kept looking over at him throughout the drive, wondering if there was anything she could do for him. House simply stared out the window, thoughtfully picking at his lip in that old nervous habit of his. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he processed things.

They soon arrived back at Blythe's house, and House said nothing as he started to climb the short flight of stairs that led back up to the bedrooms.

"Do you need anything?" She asked gently.

House paused on the stairs, frowning briefly before shaking his head. "No, I'm good." He glanced back at her with a slightly pained expression, finally speaking once more. "Thanks. I should have done this a long time ago."

Blythe wanted to throw her arms around him, to tell him that it didn't matter, but she knew he felt differently. Instead she nodded, smiling gently. "You're welcome anytime. You know that. And that goes for Tony or...whoever you decide to...partner with."

House nearly laughed at his mother's awkward attempt at acceptance. At least she was trying. It was more than his father would have done. "I'll keep that in mind." He gestured up the stairs with his cane. "Think I'll go crash for a while."

"I'll let you know when dinner's ready."

House nodded, and Blythe watched him go, feeling a mixture of pride and sadness for her son. Pride in the fact that he had finally come to openly grieve his father, and sadness that the two of them couldn't have reconciled sooner.

_Better late than never_, Blythe thought to herself as she listened to House step-thump up to the bedroom and quietly close the door. Maybe today had helped her son slay a few of the demons that haunted him. She hoped that was the case, anyway.

# # #

House stretched out on the bed, closing his eyes. Truth be told, he just needed some time alone to process everything. He was emotionally wrung out to the point that he didn't want to talk to anyone, not even Anthony.

His own reaction at his father's grave had caught him completely off guard. House didn't know what to expect when he went there, but he certainly didn't expect the complete emotional collapse that he had just experienced.

Now that the initial wave had passed, he felt an odd sense of peace about things. He still resented his father's behavior, but the hatred that he had clung to for so long seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but a lingering sadness.

He allowed himself to briefly wonder what his father would have thought about his relationship with Anthony before deciding that he already knew what the reaction would be. Maybe it wouldn't have been as extreme as his previous reaction, but House couldn't imagine that his underlying opinion would have changed much.

He sighed heavily, debating calling Anthony before casting the idea aside. This was far too much to lay at the younger man's feet, and House decided he shouldn't have to bear that particular burden. Instead he found another number in his contacts and hit send.

"Nolan."

"Hey, it's House...Greg." House twisted the cover between his fingers as he spoke. Even though Nolan had assured him that he could call day or night, House had been reluctant to put that into practice. Now, however, seemed like a good time.

"Greg." Nolan's deep voice carried into House's ear. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, well...I kind of have something...you know."

"Take your time. There's no rush."

House took a deep breath before plunging in. "I'm at my mom's. Thought I'd come see her for Christmas."

"That's good. You're renewing your family connections. That's important. Is there something else?"

There was a long pause, and Nolan thought that House had hung up on him. "I...went to visit my father's grave today."

Nolan sat up in his chair. "And how did that go?"

House sighed heavily, his emotion threatening to take over once again. "It was a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be." His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "All these years I thought I hated the man. Maybe I didn't. I don't know what to think anymore." He huffed in irritation. "Seems to bring up more questions than answers."

"It's not unusual to feel conflicted. You and your father had a very complicated relationship."

"I guess."

"How are you feeling now?"

"I don't know." House admitted. "Sad, I guess. Regretful. Maybe a little angry, too. _Definitely_ confused."

"You've made an important first step." Nolan assured him. "Most people never get that far. You're more in touch with yourself than you think."

House refrained from making the easy joke, instead taking Nolan's words to heart, even as he responded with a snort. "No wonder. This fucking hurts."

Nolan didn't say anything about his coarse language. "There is no growth without pain. You know that. You're very brave to take this on."

"Thanks." House murmured. He's gotten better about taking compliments, but they're still hard for him to accept.

"Is there anything else on your mind?"

House debated with himself before answering. "Maybe. I...found an address for that guy's parents. Don't know if they're still there, but..." Suddenly a bit of fear clutched at him, unsure about Nolan's reaction.

"That's good."

"Is it? I'm not so sure." House replied. "Maybe I should just let that sleeping dog lie."

"You've come this far, Greg." Nolan encouraged him. "Might as well see it all the way through."

"Right." House released the cover he had managed to tangle around his fingers, shaking it loose.

"Is that everything?"

"For now." House told him. "I'm sure I'll be calling you back in tears within a couple of days."

"It's okay if you do." Nolan reminded him. "That's what I'm here for."

While House was still uncomfortable with the idea of having a psychiatrist on speed dial, he was kind of grateful, too. It was good to have someone to do the emotional heavy lifting, as Anthony had once pointed out. Speaking of... "Gotta go, Nolan. Got other things to do."

"Okay." Nolan regarded him with a deep chuckle. "Stay in touch, and don't hesitate to call if you need something."

"Will do." House quickly ended the call and tossed the phone beside him. He wasn't sure he wanted to call Anthony right this minute, as he was still feeling a little emotionally raw. Actually, he was feeling a _lot _raw. He put the thought of calling Anthony aside in favor of a short nap. Even if he didn't actually sleep, perhaps the rest would do him some good and calm his rattled nerves.

# # #

It seemed like only a short time later when he heard someone tentatively tapping at the door. The room was dark, and House was completely disoriented before he remembered where he was.

"Greg?" His mother's voice carried through the door. "Dinner's ready."

"Be right there." House pushed himself to an upright position, straightening his glasses and finding his phone. So much for calling Anthony. He promised himself to make time later.

He made his way downstairs, taking in the smells of pot roast and listening to his mother chat with the neighbor guy. From the sounds of her almost girlish laughter, if it wasn't more than friendship, it soon would be.

"Greg!" George greeted him enthusiastically. "Nice to see you again."

House nodded to return the greeting, still sleepy from what seemed like too brief a nap. He took a seat at the small dining room table, and soon the three of them started eating in easy silence.

"So." George broke the silence as Blythe rose from the table to start clearing dishes. "Your mother tells me you're a doctor. Mind if I ask your specialty?"

House swallowed the mouthful he was working on before answering. "Nephrology and infectious disease."

George's eyebrows shot up. "Double specialty. Very impressive. I was in oncology myself before I retired. Pediatrics, mostly."

House nodded. Small talk had never been his thing, and he couldn't help but think that George was leading toward something. "My best friend heads up oncology at Princeton-Plainsboro. Tough specialty."

"No question, no question." George didn't quite know what to say to House. He had gotten some impression of him from conversations with both Blythe and John before John's death. As usual, the truth seemed to lay somewhere in the middle. He allowed the silence to stretch out between them before speaking again. "Your mother's something else, you know that?"

House regarded George skeptically. "Is that right?"

"That's right." George smiled nervously. "She was thinking about selling the place after your father died, you know. Glad she didn't."

"No, I didn't know that." House was a little surprised that his mother had never mentioned the idea.

"Really? Huh." The awkward silence fell over them again just as Blythe returned from the kitchen. George immediately jumped up to assist. "Why don't I take care of the rest of this, Blythe? It's the least I can do to repay you for this meal."

House tried to contain his amusement and failed miserably. Blythe fixed her son with a sharp glare. "Yes?"

"I think he likes you, Mom." House's blue eyes danced teasingly.

"Of course he does." She answered smoothly. "We're great friends."

"Oh...it's more than that."

"Oh, Greg, really." Blythe huffed, a slight blush creeping over her cheeks. "We've talked about this. Don't be silly."

House smirked as George returned to the dining room, nearly running into Blythe. He lightly touched her between the shoulder blades as if he were catching her. "Sorry about that. Are you okay?"

"Yes, George." She gave him a small smile, her son's words still working at her. "And thank you for all your help."

"It's worth it." He grinned back in return, patting her where he had touched her.

House merely rolled his eyes at the goings on, shaking his head as he left the dining room. "I'm heading out for a few. Still got some Christmas shopping to do."

Blythe was instantly suspicious, but didn't say anything. "I'll see you when you get back."

House grabbed his coat, making sure he had his phone on him before heading out the door. He was only lying in part, but his mother didn't need to know that.

He climbed into his car, starting it before pulling out his phone and finding Anthony's number in his contacts.

The younger man immediately answered, and House could hear what sounded like all hell breaking loose in the background. "Hi, hon. How's it going?"

"Quieter than there." House answered. "Other than that...not bad."

"Good." Anthony slipped away to one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind him and flopping on the bed. "It's crazy here. My sister and my nieces were already here, and now my brother and his next wife just showed up with her kids. My mom is in heaven."

"Sounds like the perfect thing to avoid." House told him as he found the store he was looking for and pulled into a parking space. "My mom's neighbor has a crush on her."

"No way." Anthony snorted.

"Yeah way." House replied with a sharp laugh.

"Are you...okay with that?"

"Sure." House shrugged. "I mean, if she's happy, then...that's good. He seems like a decent sort of guy. Retired pediatric oncologist."

"Must be weird, you know, to think of your mom being with someone other than your dad." Anthony continued. "I don't know what I'd do if my mom started dating someone, and my dad's been gone for ten years."

House was quiet, and Anthony thought that he had stepped over an unknown line. "I thought about it all the time. Matter of fact, there were times when I wished like hell that she would have been with anyone other than my dad."

Anthony paused before speaking again. "I don't know what to say to that."

"No need to say anything." House answered sharply. "It's just the truth." He pushed the thought aside before changing subjects. "So you know I was at my dad's grave today."

"Yep, I remember." Anthony had learned to keep up with House's habit of constantly changing subjects. "How'd that go?"

"Okay, I guess. I didn't think I'd have anything to say. Turns out I had a hell of a lot to say to him."

"Are you okay?"

"Sort of." House replied softly. "Talked to my friendly neighborhood headshrinker afterward."

"That's good." Anthony got to thinking about his own father. He wasn't even sure where the man was buried, and decided to make it a point to find out from his mother. If House could start to heal his wounds, there was no reason why Anthony couldn't at least attempt to do the same.

"Yeah." There was a long pause before he spoke again. "I didn't expect...I don't know. I kind of broke down. It was weird."

Anthony swallowed the lump that was growing in his throat. "I wish I could have been there for you."

House sighed heavily, feeling his emotional tide rise again. "I needed to do this on my own. Besides, you're here now...sort of."

"Not good enough." Anthony sat up on the bed. "If I were there, you know what I'd do?"

House smiled a little. "What?"

"I'd take you in my arms and hold you close. If you needed to fall apart, I'd just let you. I'd do my damnedest to make sure you felt safe."

House could envision the whole scene as it had played out so many times between them. "And I'd probably do that thing where I completely go to pieces. But you know what?"

"What, hon?"

"It'd be okay if I did, because you wouldn't be bothered at all. I'd just hang all over you until I quit bawling my eyes out, and then probably fall asleep on you in all my snoring, drooling glory."

Anthony couldn't help laughing at House's description. "Here I was trying to be supportive, and you just completely screw it up. Nice. You're such a guy."

"I thought you liked that."

Anthony broke out in a wide grin. "Trust me, I do." He sighed heavily and flopped back on the bed. "Dammit, I miss you. We're not separating for this long next year."

House let out a short laugh, even as his heart fluttered a little. "You're already talking about next year? You're scaring me a little."

Anthony hadn't even realized what he had said. "Not nearly as much as I'm scaring myself."

They fell silent, and House finally broke it. "Hey, I've gotta go. Still got shopping to do."

"Right." Anthony replied. "Talk to you later."

"Bye." House snapped his phone closed, staring at it before shoving it back in his pocket. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed Anthony, too.

He climbed out of the car and limped into the small jewelry store, browsing the pendants briefly. After finding one he thought his mother would like, his thoughts turned to Anthony.

House couldn't recall the last time he had bought a gift for anyone other than his mother. It must have been Stacy, on their last Christmas together, although he couldn't remember what the hell it could have been.

The sales clerk lingered as he browsed the cases, but nothing jumped out at him. Finally he came to the earrings, where there was a display of various sized studs. An idea occurred to him. "Can I get two studs of different stones?"

The clerk looked puzzled, but seemed to consider the idea. "Maybe. What did you have in mind?"

House explained what he wanted, and after the clerk checked with her manager, the deal was done and both pieces of jewelry were gift wrapped. He left the jewelry store grinning like an idiot, Anthony's present safely tucked inside his coat pocket. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to get back to Princeton. Anthony's reaction, House hoped, would be priceless.

# # #

**Back to you now. Read and review.**


	61. Chapter 61

**Back with my usual disclaimers. Only the O/Cs belong to me. House still belongs to David Shore and Fox.**

# # #

It was quiet when House finally made it back to his mother's, save for the television in the living room. As he got closer, he could see the top of George's head over the back of the couch, and House allowed himself a small smile.

"You kids had better not be making out in there!" He bellowed as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

George's rich laughter and his mother's almost girlish giggle carried up to him as House limped up to the bedroom. It was good to see his mother enjoying life again after his father's death, even though he knew she missed John deeply.

House settled back in on the bed with his laptop with the simple goal of playing around online before he crashed for the night. Even with the nap, he was still emotionally drained, and some simple online games would be just the thing to help him wind down.

He had just logged in to one of his gaming sites when that Queen song started belting out of his phone. House smiled to himself as he picked up the phone from the bedside table and flipped it open. "Hey, you."

"Hey, hon." Anthony's voice carried into his ear. "I managed to get away for a few minutes and I figured I'd give you a call."

"Sure, interrupt my porn surfing." House snarked mockingly.

"Ugh." Anthony shook his head. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"No joke." House answered. "Something about geriatric German grandmas spanking Spanish men...fascinating, really."

"Oh my God." Anthony groaned. "It's official. You're a freak."

"Wouldn't have me any other way, would you?"

Anthony smiled warmly on the other end of the phone. "No, I don't believe I would." He paused briefly, and House could hear him talking to someone on the other end. "Mom says she got you something. You want me to open it for you, or do you want to wait until you get home?"

"Ooh, tough call." House winced a little at the idea. The woman didn't even know him, and he couldn't possibly imagine what she could have gotten him. "Guess I'll wait. I've got something for you, too."

"Really?" Anthony was pleasantly surprised. He wasn't expecting anything from House, to be perfectly honest.

"Really." House told him firmly, thinking about the little package tucked inside his coat pocket. It was almost enough to make him want to bail early and rush back home, except that Anthony wouldn't be there anyway.

"Can you give me a hint?" Anthony kind of hoped to tease some sort of clue out of House.

"Nope, no hints." House replied. "It'll ruin the surprise."

"Hmm, damn." Anthony frowned thoughtfully. "Any chance of you coming back early?"

House snorted and laughed. "Only if you are."

From the looks of things, there was little chance of that happening. Not that Anthony really wanted to leave early. This was the one time of year that he got to see his whole family, and since his father's death, he made sure to take full advantage of the opportunity. "Nah, I think I'll hang around. I promised the little divas that I would make cookies with them tomorrow. Can't bail out on that."

House heard a gentle tap on his door. "Hold on." He held his hand over his phone and called out to his mom. "It's open."

Blythe quietly opened the door and poked her head in. "Just letting you know that I'm going to bed. Do you need anything?"

"Nope. I'm good."

"Okay. Good night, dear. And tell Tony I said hello."

House rolled his eyes, but he was smiling a little, too. "I will. Night, Mom." He put the phone back up to his ear. "Uh, my mom says hi."

"That's cool." Anthony laughed softly. "Mine says hi, too."

House merely shook his head. "I hope those two never meet. Imagine all the chaos they could create."

"Perish the thought, hon." Anthony paused again, and House could hear him murmuring good nights to various family members, and it was soon quiet on his end. "Goodness. You know, it's a good thing I only come here once a year. It's nuts."

House chuckled as he settled under the covers, taking off his glasses and shutting off the light. "Not much in the way of privacy, I take it?"

"Oh, it's not so bad." Anthony quickly answered. "Mom kept the house after my father died, so in a way, we still kind of have our own rooms. It just gets chaotic during the day with all the kids and the rest of the family stuff."

"You must be beat." House ventured, feeling a little sleepy himself as the warmth of the covers seeped into him. "I should let you go."

"Mmm...yeah, but...I kind of don't want to." Anthony answered as he turned out the bedroom light and slid into bed. "I'm kind of enjoying this." A thought occurred to him. "What are you doing right now?"

"Seriously?" House wasn't sure where Anthony was going with this. "I'm...in bed, it's dark, and I'm talking to you."

Anthony chuckled. "That's hot."

"Yeah, well. It's what I do." House replied with a snort. "What about you?"

"Hmm...I'm under this big pile of blankets, wishing you were sharing them with me." Anthony was feeling oddly sentimental tonight.

"That sounds really good." House was slowly figuring out where Anthony was trying to lead him. "I wouldn't mind...climbing in next to you, wrapping myself all around you..." Images of the two of them in bed together danced behind his closed eyelids. "You'd be pretty damned hard to resist, you know, because you'd smell so good, so...I _might_ have to start kissing your neck."

A sharp inhale on the other hand let House know that Anthony's mind was working a similar scenario. "That's a...good start, but..." Anthony shifted slightly. "I think I'd probably have to roll over and get as close as I could to you. You'd still be warm from your shower, and there's no way I'd be able to resist the way you smell. I can't even begin to explain it. You just smell like..._you._ I can't ever get enough of that. So...I'd start kissing your mouth, slow and tender at first, but eventually...are you okay?"

"Fine." House's voice sounded a little rough. "Keep going. What else?"

A slow grin spread over Anthony's face. House _was_ getting into this. Good. "Let's see...It'd start out slow and tender, but eventually...I wouldn't be able to hold off anymore. I'd slide my tongue into your mouth, and my hands would explore under your shirt. I'd push you onto your back and straddle you, moving my hands all over you. Your chest hair feels rough under my hands, but I can't see it because of your t-shirt, so that's got to go."

"Your hands and lips are all over me. I can't think about anything else." House murmured roughly. "Especially when you find every damned hot spot all the way down my neck."

"Mm-hm...like that one between your jaw and your ear?" A sharp intake of breath on the other end was his only reply. "Or maybe the space between your collarbones...or...even better...right _on _your colllarbone."

"That's the one."

"So I just stop right there, give that spot a little extra attention, listening to you moan with pleasure. Maybe then I'd move on...I'd kiss you right down your chest, but my hands wouldn't be too far behind. I might make a little side trip at your nipples. You seem to like that."

"Uh-huh..."

"Kind of thought so." Anthony felt himself get carried along with this scenario as well. "I'd take my damned dear sweet time working my way down your body, just because I enjoy every part of it, and I know it makes you _crazy_."

"But in a good way." House murmured. "As much as I want you to get down to business...I don't want you to stop what you're doing. Feels...too good."

"Good." Anthony answered softly. "So I finally get to the waistline of your...let's just say your boxers. I want to torture you for just a little longer, so...I fold down the waistband and start kissing you along your waist, starting with one hip bone and slowly working my way across. I love the taste of your skin, because you're usually sweating just a little by now, so I let my tongue get in on the action, too."

"You're killing me here."

"I know. That's part of the fun." Anthony teased him. "So...where was I?"

"Still torturing me..."

"Oh, right. So...you're moaning and squirming under me. Your fingers are all tangled up in my hair, and you're pulling on it a little. I finally strip you down and run my fingers along your inner thighs. You twitch, just a little...you don't even know how sexy you are to me right now."

House groaned a little. "Get on with it..."

"I finally take you into my mouth." Anthony continued. "I roll my tongue all over as I wrap my hand around you and stroke you. You're getting so close...you're tensing under me, arching up into my mouth as I take you in fully..."

Anthony heard a rough groan on the other end, followed by silence. Finally House let out a long sigh. "You're in the wrong business, boy. You ever consider another career change?"

"Seriously?" Anthony laughed softly. "All that did something for you?"

"A whole lot of something." House replied, his voice still a little rough. "Only one thing missing."

"What's that?"

There was another brief silence before House answered quietly, "You."

A little something stabbed at Anthony at that. "I miss you, too."

"Yeah." House sighed heavily. "You think we could do that again?"

Anthony snorted before dissolving into quiet laughter. "Hell, yes."

"Cool." House shifted slightly under the covers. "Hey...I love you."

"I love you, too." Anthony answered affectionately. "Same time tomorrow?"

"I'll be here."

"Good deal. Good night, hon."

"G'night." House snapped his phone closed and tossed it in the direction of the bedside table. Now that all was said and done, he almost missed Anthony more than he did before he called him. It made House realize that it wasn't just the sex he missed. It was everything else, the closeness that they shared, the simple pleasure of just _being _with him. That was something that couldn't be delivered over a phone line.

As House fell asleep a little later, he couldn't help but think that things were going to be a little different between himself and Anthony when they were together again. The more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. Something good was coming out of their little separation after all.

# # #

House awakened the next morning somewhat disoriented. His dreams had been oddly disturbing, a mix of everything that was going through his head that week.

Today was the day, he knew. Today he was going to chase his last ghost. He still wasn't sure how he was going to approach the young man's parents, if they even still lived at the address he had found.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he ate breakfast and drank coffee with Blythe and George. His mother regarded him with concern, but didn't say anything.

As Blythe cleaned up after breakfast, House limped into the kitchen to set his coffee cup in the sink. Blythe reached out to touch his arm before he could pull back. "Something's bothering you."

House debated telling her the other purpose of this trip. "Do you remember when you told me about the kid that killed himself? It was back when I first started college."

Blythe frowned thoughtfully before her face lit in recognition. "Yes. You told me you didn't know him. It seemed odd at the time, but..." Her expression changed to shock. "You _did_ know him."

House nodded slightly, leaning on the counter and looking down. "A little more than anyone knew. When Dad found out...that was the last blowout he and I had before I left for college."

Blythe felt a lump build in her throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"

House snorted. "Think about it, Mom. Homosexuality wasn't exactly the hottest thing going in the late seventies."

Her son had a good point. Blythe wasn't sure how she would have reacted then. It was probably just as well that he hadn't said anything, although it explained a good deal about John's reaction to the young man's death.

House sighed heavily. "So anyway...the other reason I came here...I need to make some sort of amends for...I don't know what, exactly. Just seems like the thing to do."

Blythe covered House's hand with one of her own. "I think I understand why. You think you were somewhat responsible for his suicide."

"Yeah." House's voice came out rough. "Anyway...I've got to go. I'll see you later."

Blythe watched her son leave the kitchen, leaning heavily on his cane as he did so. She hoped he would come to recognize that he didn't do anything wrong, that he could find some kind of forgiveness, mostly for himself.

George was sitting in the living room with the newspaper and a cup of coffee when he noticed House passing through. "Going somewhere?"

House nodded as he put on his coat. "I've got things to do, people to see." _Forgiveness to seek, _he thought, but didn't add. He figured George didn't need to know everything, and he figured that his mother would probably fill George in anyway.

House carefully made his way down the front steps and climbed into his car, punching the address he had found into his GPS before starting the car and pulling out into the street. His nerves were as tightly wound as one of his guitar strings, not knowing what he would say or how the young man's parents would react.

That was assuming the address was correct and that the parents were still living. House knew he was assuming a hell of a lot. Normally he wouldn't make such assumptions, but he had nothing else to go on today.

He pulled up in front of the house, a million memories starting to flood into his brain as he shut off the car and climbed out. Suddenly all he wanted to do was turn around and leave.

He dug through his coat for his phone, finding the contact he sought and hitting send.

"This is Doctor Nolan."

"It's Greg...again."

"Good to hear from you." Nolan responded in that soothing tone of his. "What's going on?"

"I'm here." House answered tensely. "I'm in front of his house...his parents' house. God...it feels like 1977 all over again." He swallowed hard. "I can't do this."

Nolan was silent for a moment, carefully considering his response. "What is the worst that will happen?"

House had to stop to gather his scattered 'what-if' thoughts. "They'll still blame me for their son's death. And they'll be right."

"Do you honestly believe this young man took his life because of you?"

House started shaking as he spoke. "After my dad found out, I never spoke to the guy again. I rejected him. He killed himself not that long after. Of course it was my fault." His voice dropped to a mere whisper. "My curiosity killed him."

"You don't know that." Nolan told him firmly. "He might have had other problems."

"I didn't exactly _help_, did I?" House snapped. "He's still dead. It doesn't matter whether or not he had other 'problems'."

Nolan was quiet again, letting House's words sink in before answering. "If this wasn't important to you, you wouldn't have bothered to find his parents in the first place." He let House process that statement before continuing. "You know there's only one way to find out the truth."

Nolan was right. Of course he was. House sighed as he finally calmed himself. "I know, I know. Suck it up and do it and all that."

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it." Nolan chuckled ever so slightly. "I'm saying that...this is about _your _healing. Their reaction won't matter that much. You might even be pleasantly surprised. They might appreciate the fact that you tried to reach out to them."

House nodded firmly and straightened himself up. "Okay, I'm going. Thanks for the pep talk."

"That's what I'm here for." Nolan replied. "Don't hesitate to call if you need another one."

House quickly thanked him and closed his phone, shoving it in his coat pocket. There was only one way for him to find out how this would go. He made his way up the front steps of the house and knocked on the door.

# # #

The old man that was snoozing in the chair jerked awake when he heard the knock on the door. "Sheila! Someone's at the door!"

"Got it, Dad." She swung open the door, puzzled by the stranger with the cane. "Can I help you?"

The man looked startled, and she couldn't help but think he looked just a little bit familiar. Of course he was older, but something about those eyes...

She shook off the thought and waited for him to speak. He seemed to take a deep breath as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "I'm looking for Robert and Mary Anderson, but...I think I have the wrong address."

Sheila caught him by the sleeve just before he turned to leave. "No, you've got the right house. Robert's my father. I'm their daughter Sheila."

The man took Sheila's outstretched hand. "Greg House. I was hoping I could talk to your father. It's about his son."

Sheila froze. No one had dared speak of her brother in years. "My father has Alzheimer's. Digging up the past will only confuse him." She studied House. "What is this really about?"

House took another deep breath and leaned on his cane. "If you're his daughter, I can only assume that his son was your brother."

He seemed nervous, and Sheila couldn't figure out why. "Yes...now, what do you want?"

"I...knew your brother." House finally told her. "We kind of...had...something going before he died." He looked around at everything but her. "I never meant to hurt him." He spoke softly. "I sure as hell didn't think he'd kill himself. I'm...sorry."

The apology sounded half-assed even to his own ears, and House could only imagine what this woman thought of it. He turned away and started down the steps, cursing himself for even attempting this in the first place.

House felt a hand land on his shoulder before he got one foot off the porch. "I _do_ remember you." Sheila told him softly, her voice loaded with emotion. "Shawn used to talk about you all the time."

A wave of shame washed over House at her words. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No." She answered, something in her tone making House turn around. "But it's the truth." She released his shoulder, gesturing for him to follow her. "Come on in. I have a few things to show you."

House was edgy, not sure what he was getting himself into as he followed Sheila into the house. An older man napped noisily in a recliner in the living room as they passed through.

Sheila led him to the dining room, opening a drawer on a china cabinet and pulling out several photo albums. They sat down at the dining room table as Sheila started flipping through the pictures.

Suddenly House felt as if he was transported back in time. There was Shawn, laughing and smiling, full of life, as if no time had elapsed. Memories came flooding back to him in a rush, overwhelming him, and he could almost hear the young man's voice again.

He shook his head as he flipped through the pages, ending on a page containing the program for the young man's funeral. House wanted to simply close the photo album, to shut the memory out, but that would defeat the purpose of this trip.

Instead he forced himself to read the program, scanning the songs that were chosen. He wondered who had chosen for him, because it didn't seem like songs Shawn would have liked.

"My parents were in denial about Shawn for years." Sheila's voice broke into House's thoughts. "The idea that he might be gay was just the last straw for them. They couldn't accept that. When they forced him to leave...no one was allowed to speak about him ever again." Sheila broke into a bitter chuckle. "Turns out it wasn't that long."

House slammed the photo album closed and started to rise from the chair. "I shouldn't have come here."

"Sit down." Sheila snapped, and House lowered himself back down into the chair. "You don't get it. Shawn had...other problems. I guess if he had been properly diagnosed, he would have been diagnosed as bipolar. No one knew anything about that back then. Hell, homosexuality was still considered by some to be a mental illness back then." She took a shaky breath before continuing. "No one really understood him. My parents didn't know what to do with him, kids at school picked on him...he didn't have many friends. I tried to shelter him, but...there was only so much I could do. When I left for college...he cried. God, he cried, begged me not to leave. He told me that 'they' would destroy him. I had no idea what he was talking about, of course. All I could do was promise to call and write as much as I could. I came home as often as I could that year, but...it didn't seem like enough."

House was stunned by Sheila's story. Now that he thought back, all the little pieces made sense. Of course none of it made sense then, but now, with the benefit of his years of medical training, coupled with his own experiences, it all seemed to fall into place. "When we were hanging out...his personality would change on a dime. I didn't think anything of it. He just seemed interesting to me. I didn't think anything was really _wrong_ with him." He let out a huff of frustration. "God, I've been such an idiot."

Sheila pulled out another piece of paper, tucked behind the funeral program. "This was the note the police found next to him."

With shaking hands, House took the brittle piece of paper, scanning over the words. They were rambling, nonsensical. House couldn't help but be reminded of his own delusional behavior, and he suddenly felt a different connection with Shawn. He swallowed the lump that defiantly grew in his throat.

"Something broke in him when my parents kicked him out." Sheila's voice reflected House's own emotional state. "He called me not long after, rambling endlessly. I couldn't understand what he was saying. By the time I figured it out...it was too late." She took in a ragged breath, and House looked up to see tears shining in her eyes. "He was a good kid. God, if any of us had known what to do...maybe he would have lived."

House impulsively reached out to take Sheila's hand. Never in a million years did he think _he_ would be the one to offer comfort. This wasn't turning out anything like he expected.

"Sheila?" A young woman poked her head into the dining room. "I'm reporting in."

"Of course." Sheila quickly rose from the chair to update the home nurse on her father's condition. House took the opportunity to look through other pictures in the album. There was one of Sheila, Shawn, and their parents. For all intents and purposes, they looked just like any other all-American family. House wondered if Shawn was suffering even then.

He had no way of knowing, and he couldn't feel anything but deep sadness for the mental illness that had torn their family apart. While he still felt responsible for driving the final nail into Shawn's coffin, he was somewhat comforted by the knowledge that there had been other problems. It wasn't enough to erase his sense of guilt, but it did ease it, just a little.

Sheila returned to see House deep in thought, poring over the photo album. She tapped the family picture. "That was from our last family vacation in Virginia Beach in August of '75. Everything seemed to fall apart after that." She took the album from House and placed it back in the cabinet. "Come on. I'll show you where he's buried."

House followed Sheila to her car, and they took a long drive out to the countryside, finally pulling into a small cemetery. Sheila parked, gesturing House to follow her to a simple headstone surrounded by a few weeds. Like his mother had, Sheila dropped down to pull the weeds. "I've been the only one to visit his grave. After we buried him, my parents didn't want to acknowledge his existence. My mother wanted to get rid of all the pictures of him."

"Nice family." House spoke harshly.

Sheila sighed heavily. "The guilt was eating her alive. She didn't know how else to deal with it, so...better to deny that he ever existed. My father...he gathered up everything Shawn owned and threw it in the dumpster. I managed to rescue a few things, but..."

She was starting to fall apart, House knew. He reached out to take hold of her shaking shoulder, and it was her undoing. "He was a good kid, a good, kind soul." She sobbed. "_Someone_ ought to remember him."

"I do." House replied quietly. He blinked, not terribly surprised to find tears running down his own cheeks. Memories of this wild, bold, unafraid young man flashed through his mind, coupled with the knowledge that he was a deeply troubled soul, and that the events that had led to his death were largely coincidental. "I shouldn't have pushed him away. He could have used someone who sort of understood him."

"You had no way of knowing how close he was to the edge." Sheila had calmed somewhat, patting House's hand on her shoulder as she rose to her feet. "No one did." She turned to face House, gripping him by the shoulders and looking up at him. "His personal demons killed him. You didn't. This wasn't your fault. If you're torturing yourself with this, please...just _stop_."

House froze where he stood, overwhelmed by Sheila's words. He wasn't sure what to say now. He swallowed hard and finally nodded. "Can we...have a minute alone?" He gestured toward Shawn's headstone.

"Of course." Sheila answered with a slight smile. "I'll be in the car when you're ready."

House nodded firmly and limped toward the headstone. It was polished granite, with Shawn's name and dates of birth and death carved into it. He stared down, not sure what he really wanted to say.

In the end, House didn't say anything. He simply stood over the headstone for a few minutes, letting his mind take him back to that all-too brief summer between high school and college, to the mutual curiosity that had overtaken them both, the bond that had developed between them almost as an aside to that curiosity. There was no point in wondering what might have been. That was then, this was now, and House felt a lot better about simply letting Shawn go.

"You were a good kid, Shawn." House finally spoke softly. "You won't be forgotten."

He left the grave and rejoined Sheila for the ride back to the house, determined that Sheila would not be Shawn's only visitor from now on. That meant he would have to visit more often, but somehow that didn't seem like such a burden anymore.

# # #

**It's that time again. Read and review.**


	62. Chapter 62

**Back again with all those disclaimers and stuff. I don't own any of the House people.**

# # #

Wilson and Michaels lay together on her couch, her head in his lap, the remains of their Chinese feast spread out on the coffee table. Wilson continued to pick at his cashew chicken while they watched 'A Christmas Story'.

"You're awfully quiet tonight." Michaels gave Wilson a concerned look. "Is everything okay?"

Wilson nodded as he chewed thoughtfully. "Just used to doing this with House. Minus the whole head-in-my-lap thing, of course." He offered Michaels a bite of his food, and she accepted it with a warm smile. "I haven't heard from him since he left. I hope everything's okay with him."

"I'm sure he's just busy." Michaels pushed herself to a sitting position and reached for her container of Hunan beef. "You said yourself that it's been a long time since he's visited for Christmas."

Wilson shrugged. "I just figured I'd hear from him by now, that's all."

As if on cue, Wilson's phone started chiming. He glanced at the display, a wide grin lighting his face. "Hello, House."

"Ho, ho, ho." House replied, smiling a little at the sound of his best friend's voice. "Happy Chanuchristmas...or something."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks." Wilson rolled his eyes at House's words. "Figured I'd hear from you before now. What's going on?"

House shrugged, not sure how much he wanted to share with Wilson. "Not a whole lot. Just hanging out with my mom and her neighbor guy. Turns out they do the Chinese food on Christmas Eve thing, too."

"Really?" Wilson's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Is that some new thing?"

"I guess." House answered. "Both of them were alone last year, and one thing led to another...now they've apparently decided to spend every Christmas Eve together. It's kind of sweet, in a creepy kind of way."

"Why creepy?"

House rolled his eyes. "Hello! This is my _mom_. That alone makes it creepy."

"So your mom's moved on. That's good, right?"

"Yeah." House paused briefly. "Kind of wish they'd met a long time ago, but whatever."

Wilson twisted his mouth on the other end. "So you like him."

"He seems like a good guy, and she's as happy as I've ever seen her." House sighed heavily. "Yeah, I like him. He's a retired pediatric oncologist, so he's even more of a masochist than you are."

"Nice." Wilson rolled his eyes, even as he chuckled a little. "So other than stuffing your face with Chinese food, what other hell are you raising down there?"

"None." House answered, a serious tone that Wilson almost didn't recognize creeping into his voice. "Visited my dad's grave."

"Really?" Wilson was very surprised now. "I didn't think you'd want to."

"I didn't want to, but...it was something I needed to do. You know, closure and all that happy crap."

Silently, Wilson prayed that House had found some sort of resolution there, if not some sort of peace. "And...?"

"And...nothing." House's tone turned tense, and it was clear that Wilson was stepping over a line he didn't know was there. He blew out a long sigh before continuing. "Look...it was hard, okay? Way harder than I thought. I had to call my fucking shrink afterward." That was mostly true, even if the details were switched around somewhat. House didn't really feel the need to reopen a wound that was just starting to heal.

"Sorry." Wilson muttered softly, cursing himself for pushing House so hard.

House was quiet, and Wilson thought he had hung up. Finally he spoke again. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just that...this whole trip...it's been strange. I don't know how to explain it."

"Sounds like you've got a lot of work to do." Wilson told him. "But you knew that going into it, I suppose."

"Yeah." House sounded thoughtful. "Anyway. Did you find someone else to eat Chinese food with?"

A grin broke out on Wilson's face as he watched Michaels return to the living room and sit beside him. "Sure did. I managed to talk Lillian into it. She agreed if I would sit through multiple viewings of 'A Christmas Story' with her."

House let out a low whistle. "That woman drives a hard bargain."

"It's worth it." Wilson assured him, giving Michaels a quick squeeze as she placed her head on his shoulder.

House chuckled in response. "I'm sure." There was a brief pause while House talked to someone in the background. "Uh, the food's here, and my mom says 'hi'."

"Tell her I said the same, and...Merry Christmas."

"Same to you, Wilson." House snapped his phone closed, sighing and shaking his head. Even though he and Wilson had come a long way in repairing their friendship, there were still a lot of things he didn't quite feel comfortable sharing with him. The fact that he had visited the grave of his first man was one of those things. He was pretty sure Wilson wouldn't fully understand his rationale behind it.

He limped into the dining room, where his mother had a variety of Chinese food containers spread out on the table. She met him with a brief smile, gesturing toward one. "I think that one's yours."

House nodded and took the container, dumping about half of it out onto a plate and adding rice. "Where's your friendly neighbor?"

"Oh, he had a couple of last minute errands to run." Blythe answered breezily. "He'll be over a little later."

The two of them retired to the living room and occupied opposite ends of the couch. Blythe observed her son carefully, not sure what she was looking for. After a long silence, Blythe spoke up. "So...how did things go today?"

House frowned while he chewed thoughtfully. "Not nearly as badly as I thought it would. I met his sister. Their mom died, and their father has Alzheimer's. Sis thought it would be a bad idea to go digging up the past for him."

Blythe nodded as she listened. She was sure there was more to the story, but she didn't want to pry. "I'm glad things worked out."

"Me too." House answered after swallowing a mouthful of rice. "I don't know what I was expecting, but...yeah, it was good. As good as it could be, I guess."

The two of them fell silent again, occasionally punctuating the silence with casual chat about the show Blythe was watching. George soon joined them, squeezing Blythe's shoulder affectionately and nodding to House as he sat down with his own plate.

After dinner, Blythe quickly jumped up to take care of the few plates and pack up leftovers, leaving House and George alone in the living room. George nervously cleared his throat to catch House's attention.

House regarded him sharply. "Something wrong?"

"No, no." The older man shifted in his chair, leaning forward so that he leaned on his knees. "I...I got your mother a little something for Christmas." He pulled a small velvet box out of his pants pocket.

House frowned slightly, eyeing the small package suspiciously. "That's no little something."

"Oh, no, it's not what you think." George's eyes went a little wide. "I don't think she's ready for that. It's too soon after...well, you know." He sighed a little as he opened the box to reveal a simple pair of gold and diamond earrings. "I like your mother very much. I just wanted to get her something that reflected that. What do you think?"

House was surprised and a little relieved. As much as he was starting to like George, he wasn't sure he was ready to see his mother married off again so soon. He nodded in approval. "I think she'll like them."

"Good." George looked visibly relieved. "It's the first present I've bought for her. Wouldn't want to get it wrong."

House smiled just a little to himself. So there _was_ more going on than friendship, at least from George's point of view. He suspected that his mother felt similarly, but he didn't want to tell George that. It was far better to let them figure it out for themselves without his interference.

Blythe returned, and George quickly shoved the small box back into his pocket. House smirked and rose to his feet. "I'll just leave you crazy kids to your evening."

Blythe wrinkled her brow in concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Yep." House asserted. "Just a long day. I'll see you in the morning." He limped over to give his mother a brief kiss, whispering to her, "I think he has something for you."

A slow smile crept across her face as she lightly squeezed her son. "Good night, dear."

House started up the stairs, pausing about halfway up when he heard George's voice. He couldn't make out the words, but he peeked down to observe as George pulled the small box out of his pocket and presented it to Blythe.

Blythe's face changed from mild confusion to curiosity to wide-eyed amazement when she opened the small package. She gently wrapped her arms around the older man, a wide smile gracing her delicate features.

House grinned to himself as he continued up the stairs, oddly warmed by the moment shared between his mother and George. This was turning out to be a very interesting Christmas visit indeed.

# # #

House changed into his sleep clothes and took off his glasses, finding his phone and slipping under the covers. While he wasn't counting on any phone action tonight, it would still be good to hear Anthony's voice.

On the other end, Anthony's phone started singing its familiar ringtone. His face lit in a wide grin that didn't go unnoticed as he flipped it open. "Hi, hon."

"Hey." House smiled to himself at the sound of Anthony's voice. "Are you alone?"

"Not yet." Anthony laughed as one of his nieces climbed on to his lap. "Do you need me to be?"

"Nah, I just called to talk."

Anthony frowned in concern and switched his phone to his other ear. "Is everything okay?"

House rolled his eyes. "It's fine. You sound busy. Just call me back later."

Anthony huffed in mild frustration. While House's words said one thing, his tone seemed to say another. "Give me about an hour, okay? Things should calm down a little bit around here by then."

House could hear chatter and laughter in the background as Anthony spoke. While crowded family events weren't usually his thing, he could see how Anthony would enjoy such things. "Okay. I'll be here."

He was just starting to doze when his phone started singing at him, but not Anthony's ringtone. Baffled and disoriented, House flipped open the phone without bothering to look at the Caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, Merry Christmas, man!" Jake's deep voice rang out. It was clear he'd been drinking a bit, but his voice was as cheerful as ever.

House checked his watch before answering. "I guess it is, officially. Any special reason you're calling me?"

"Just making the rounds of Christmas calls. Congrats, you made my list." The younger man laughed. "Did I wake you up?"

This phone call was going weird in a hurry. "Not really."

"That's good." There was a long pause before Jake started speaking again. "I'm not stalking you or anything, you know. I just...you know...missed you, that's all. You and your guy together tonight?"

"Nope." House kind of wanted to get off the phone in case Anthony called, but figured the call waiting would alert him. "He's with his family, and I'm with mine. Kind of figured it was a little soon to do the in-laws' thing."

Jake chuckled at what House thought was a fairly lame joke. "Nothing wrong with that. I'm at my mom's myself. She found my guitar, so I've been driving her crazy with that. She told me it's like I'm sixteen all over again. I think she kind of likes it."

House laughed. "So that's the horrible screeching sound I've been hearing these last few days. I wondered."

"You're funny." Jake rolled his eyes and laughed in response. "I'm no you, but I'm not that bad."

"No, no you're not." House conceded. "You're pretty damn good yourself. Are you learning any new stuff while you're there?"

"Mmm...not really. I'm trying to relearn some of the old stuff before I move on. Not a lot of good new stuff out there, to tell the truth."

House snorted. "Now you're sounding like me. Before you know it you'll be bitching and moaning about how no one's as good as that old..." The band names escaped him.

"...Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam...yeah, all the classics." Jake couldn't resist teasing House about his lack of knowledge of newer rock music.

"Uh, I hate to tell you this...but that stuff _is_ kind of considered classic now. Sad but true."

"Damn." Jake had to concede the point. "That makes me feel kind of old."

"Welcome to my world." House rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.

"No way, man." Jake asserted. "You're definitely not old. _Definitely_ not old." The memory of every encounter he and House had shared came back to him. He could think of many ways to describe House, but old was never one of those things. "Maybe you're more _classic_. Yeah, that's it. You're a _classic_ man, Greg."

House couldn't help but chuckle at that. "You've been drinking, haven't you?"

"I'll never tell." Jake snickered.

"You don't have to." House snarked back. His call waiting suddenly beeped in his ear. "Got another call, Jake. I've got to go."

"Okay." The younger man sounded disappointed. "You're still coming to New Year's, right?"

"Far as I know." House answered. "Talk to you soon. Oh, and...Merry Christmas."

With a click House was gone, and Jake was left holding his phone, nothing but a dial tone on the other end where House's voice had been. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Greg." He sighed sadly and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He'd been hoping for a longer conversation with him, but sometimes, when it came to House, he had to take what he could get.

House shook his head and switched over to take his other call. "Hey."

"Hey, you." Anthony's warm voice carried through. "Finally got all the little squirts settled in for the night." He settled in under the covers and turned out the bedside light. "So, what's up?"

House wasn't sure where to begin. It had been an eventful day. "Jake called me."

"Seriously?" Anthony was baffled, and suddenly feeling oddly threatened. "Whatever the hell for?"

"Not sure." House answered. "I think he was checking up on me."

Anthony snorted derisively. "That's weird. So...you talked?"

"For a minute." House rubbed his eyes. "Things started to get a little weird."

"I'm sure." Anthony couldn't help feeling a little jealous. He liked to think these intimate nighttime conversations were something just between the two of them.

An awkward silence passed between them until House broke it. "Hey, look. I probably shouldn't have opened with the Jake thing."

"No, it's okay." Anthony quickly answered, suddenly feeling silly at his fit of jealousy. "I mean, he's your friend, right? It's only natural that he should want to talk to you." He blew out a long sigh. "I'm just being an idiot."

"Maybe." House shrugged and shifted deeper under the covers. "But you're my idiot."

Anthony laughed, and the tension almost immediately dissipated. "That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Get used to it." House chuckled in response.

They continued chatting about nothing in particular, wandering easily from one subject to another. Anthony was remarkably understanding about House's visit to Shawn's grave, and was able to offer some sort of comfort when House's emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

At some point, Anthony glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Are you aware of what time it is?"

House glanced over at his own clock. The display flashed 3:00. He couldn't remember the last time he had talked so long on the phone with anyone. "Jesus, when did I get so damned chatty?"

"Must have had a lot to say." Anthony laughed affectionately. "I should go. The little angels will be up soon, dragging me out of this bed. Guess I'd better be ready for them."

"Have fun." House murmured. "Hey...Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, hon." Anthony told him warmly. "I love you."

"Love you, too." House snapped his phone closed and set it on the table next to his glasses. No hot phone action had gone down tonight, but that was okay. He had to admit that he had enjoyed the simple intimacy of just talking with Anthony in the dark. It wasn't as good as having him there with him, but it was damn close. House would take it.

# # #

**All yours, dear readers. Read and review.**


	63. Chapter 63

**Finally wrapping this one up. :) Thanks to all of you who have followed the story, and all the fantastic reviews. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. As usual, I don't own the hottie with the cane.**

# # #

House returned home two days later, blowing out a long sigh as he pulled up in front of his building. It had been an exhausting trip, both physically and emotionally, but it had been well worth it. His mother had sent him on his way with a warm hug and insistence on future visits. "And you'd better bring Tony with you next time." She had scolded him, and even George had expressed an interest in meeting Anthony, although House was reasonably sure he had said it mostly to stay on his mother's good side.

He supposed it didn't really matter. George seemed like a good enough guy, and his mother was happy, especially after she admitted her growing feelings for her neighbor. As a result, it had been one of the more enjoyable Christmases House could remember. If Anthony had been there...well, perhaps next year, if all went well.

He was amused by the idea, and a little thrilled as well. As he climbed out of the car, he dug into the inside of his coat, making sure Anthony's gift was still there. Assured of its presence, he dragged his duffle bag out of the trunk and made his way up the couple of steps that led to his apartment.

Between the visit itself and the drive home, House was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to take a quick shower and collapse into bed. He didn't even want to talk to Anthony tonight. That could wait until morning.

He turned the shower water on until it was as hot as he could stand it before climbing in, letting the warmth seep into him. If he hadn't been standing, House was sure he would have fallen asleep. As it was, that was still a possibility. He quickly washed up, dried off, and changed into an old t-shirt and a pair of flannel sleep pants, slowly limping down the hallway to his bedroom.

House didn't even bother turning on his bedroom light. He simply removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand before crawling under the covers and closing his eyes. It felt so good to be back in his own bed that he couldn't stand it. Only one thing would have made it feel more complete, but, well, that could wait a day or two until Anthony returned. For now, a good solid night's sleep would do.

He awakened a few hours later, his leg and his dreams both working against his goal of sleeping in. As he shifted in bed, attempting to find a comfortable position, he got the odd feeling he wasn't alone.

That feeling was confirmed when something sighed and shifted next to him. Suddenly House wasn't so bothered by the idea of losing sleep.

"I'd call you Goldilocks, but you're hair's the wrong color." House rumbled in Anthony's ear, sliding an arm around the younger man's waist and pulling him in close.

Anthony chuckled and rolled over, slipping an arm over House's waist and one leg in between House's legs. "And you're a little old to be Baby Bear."

"Hmm...maybe a different fairy tale, then." House murmured as he spread his hand out along Anthony's back. "Little Red Riding Hood? I could be the Big Bad Wolf."

Anthony burst out laughing at that, curling closer to House and taking in his scent. "Freak."

"Yep." House wrapped himself completely around Anthony, planting a kiss on his forehead. "How the hell did you get in here, anyway?"

"Mmm...I might have gotten a little help from a certain oncologist friend of yours." Anthony answered as he slid his hand under House's t-shirt. "And a key."

"Sneaky little shit." House grumbled, closing his eyes at the feel of Anthony's hand smoothing over his skin. "Good thing I like you both."

"Aw...I missed you, too." Anthony let his hand wander further up House's back, hearing House's breath catch in his throat. He placed a soft kiss just under House's jaw. "I missed _this_."

House moved a hand to cup Anthony's face, lifting it up and leaning in for a long kiss, sliding his tongue into the younger man's mouth and gently tangling with Anthony's. Soon they were nothing but a tangle of limbs and tongues and lips, simply reacquainting themselves with each other again.

House rolled Anthony onto his back, breaking away from his mouth and pressing kisses all over his jaw and neck, half-laying on the younger man while pushing up his t-shirt to move his hand over Anthony's body.

Somehow they managed to wrestle each other's clothing off, scattering it to locations unknown. House lay on top of Anthony, rocking against him, all the passion and want and need that had been building up these last few days pouring out of him as he wrapped himself around Anthony.

He worked his way back up Anthony's neck, pressing a firm kiss in the space between his jaw and his ear before whispering roughly, "I love you."

"I love you too, hon." Anthony responded huskily, running his hands up and down House's back.

House pushed himself off Anthony slightly, just enough to stare deeply into the younger man's bright green eyes. "I'm serious. I..._really_ love you, in that...I-don't-want-anyone-else kind of way." He looked away, his voice becoming soft with emotion. "Like I haven't felt in a long goddamn time."

Anthony had to swallow the lump that was growing in his own throat at House's words. He reached up to lightly caress House's face, leaving his open palm on his cheek. "I never stopped feeling that for you. Even when you pushed me away...I would have done damn near anything to get you back." He slid his hand to the back of House's neck and pulled him down for a firm kiss. "You're the one that I want."

House's eyes flicked back to Anthony's face, and a slow smile crept onto his face. While the idea that he felt so deeply for a man was still odd, he had finally come to the conclusion that it didn't matter anymore. He leaned down and kissed him deeply, thrilling to the low moan that he received in response.

He shifted to reach the drawer on the bedside table, finding the condoms and lube that were stashed there before returning to Anthony, smoothing his hand all over him before squeezing out the lube and warming it between his fingers.

Anthony held his breath briefly in anticipation as House slipped one finger inside him, then another. He let out a soft noise as the older man worked his fingers in and out of him, arching upward with each stroke.

"God, Greg..." Anthony was having trouble putting a cohesive thought together, losing himself in the pleasure House was giving him.

House didn't say anything in response, instead pulling out and shifting so that he was in between Anthony's legs, covering himself before slowly easing his way in. Anthony let out a soft groan, arranging himself so that his legs somehow ended up thrown over House's shoulders.

House took hold of Anthony as he plunged in deeper, stroking him in rhythm with his own thrusts, pushing them both close to the edge. Anthony went first, riding out the sensation that overtook him until House released with one final thrust, slowly pulling out as he came down with a long sigh.

He disposed of the condom and returned to lay next to Anthony, throwing one arm over his stomach and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I've missed you, too."

"I gathered that." Anthony finally managed to get out, still trying to catch his breath.

House pulled closer, taking in Anthony's scent and lightly caressing his stomach. "I've got your present if you want it."

Anthony's face lit in a grin. "I want."

House chuckled and shook his head, grumbling something about how Anthony was forcing him out of bed so damned early. Anthony responded with a snicker of his own, playfully telling him, "You can start some coffee while you're up."

House turned and glared at him. "Sex, presents, _and _coffee? Christ, you're demanding."

Anthony was amused by House's snarky comment, and mildly aroused at the sight of House shirtless, clad only in his sleep pants. "The sooner you do all that...the sooner you can come back to bed."

House seemed to consider that, finally nodding. "You might have a point there."

He returned a short time later, carefully bearing two coffee mugs. The present was nowhere in sight, and Anthony was a bit puzzled. "Did you forget something?"

House threw him a teasing look. "Nope."

Anthony arched an eyebrow at him as he sat up and accepted the mug House presented to him. "You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?"

"Not at all." House set down his own mug and crawled back into the bed. "It's somewhere on me. You just have to find it."

"Ooh...a treasure hunt." Anthony's eyes seemed to light up. "I like that."

He set aside his coffee and moved his hand over House's body, sliding his hand around House's waist. "Hmm...not there...I wonder where the hell it could be?"

Anthony continued his search, letting his hand wander all over House, not sure of what he was looking for, but not really caring, either. The search was half the fun. His hand brushed against the front of House's sleep pants, and Anthony could feel his reaction. "I don't think that's it. I already got that present."

House snorted, enjoying the feel of Anthony's hand on him. He almost didn't care now if Anthony found his present or not. This was good, too. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind getting _that_ one again."

"No, but..." Anthony finally happened across a small lump in House's pocket. He fished it out, his eyebrows shooting up in complete surprise. "What _is_ this?"

"Open it up and find out." House shifted so that he was leaning on one elbow, the rest of him stretched out along the length of the bed.

Anthony sat up, opening the small box with great interest. Inside were nestled a mismatched pair of stud earrings. He was baffled, but touched. "I...think I need this one spelled out for me."

House sighed heavily and pushed himself to a sitting position. "It's not rocket science." He gently took the box out of Anthony's hand "The ruby one's for your birth month, the diamond one..." House's heart started pounding in his chest. This had seemed like such a brilliant idea a few days ago. Suddenly he wasn't so sure. "...that one's for...us."

Anthony's eyes went wide, fairly sure of what House was asking him, but he wanted to be sure. "For...us?"

House huffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm not _proposing_, you numbnut. I just..." He shifted so that he was leaning against the headboard, his good leg drawn to his chest, his eyes downcast. "I just want us to be...together. You know, for as long as we can be." He pressed his lips together, feeling his heart sink into his stomach. Maybe it was too much, too soon. Maybe he should have held off a while longer.

Anthony moved closer, taking the box out of House's hand and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I accept." He whispered in House's ear.

House's eyes went wide, and a slow grin crept back onto his weathered face, the spark returning to his bright blue eyes. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Anthony told him firmly.

"Thank God." House muttered, slumping down against the headboard.

Anthony laughed softly and pulled away after giving House another light kiss, changing out his customary silver hoops for the studs House had given him. He tilted his head toward House. "You like?"

House gently took Anthony's earlobe in his large hand, watching how both the ruby and the diamond sparkled in the light of the bedroom. "I do." He fixed Anthony with a sharp look. "And I don't necessarily mean like that."

"Could always go the civil union route, you know." Anthony placed his head on House's shoulder. "That's legal in Jersey."

House rolled his eyes again and wrapped an arm around Anthony's shoulders. "Easy there, Sparky. I'm just saying I want to be with you for as long as humanly possible."

"There's no hurry, hon." Anthony told him, a little surprised at his own words. "As long as we're together, that's all that really matters. We can work out the other stuff later."

"Yeah. _Much_ later." House grumbled, even as he was pleased beyond all reason by Anthony's response. He never thought of himself as the marrying kind, especially to a guy. Somehow the idea didn't sound so crazy anymore. He turned and planted a kiss on top of Anthony's head. "Wilson's going to shit bricks when I drop this bomb on him."

"No kidding." Anthony laughed. "Simon's going to _scream_ when I show him."

They were silent for a long time, and Anthony felt House's head land on his own. "Maybe shacking up with you wouldn't be so bad. It wouldn't be much different than what we're doing right now."

"We don't have to decide that right now." Anthony told him, wrapping his arm around the older man's waist. A thought suddenly occurred to him. "How did you know my birthstone? I've never told you when my birthday was."

"You showed me your driver's license our first night together." House grinned at the memory. "You told me how old you were, and I didn't believe you, so you whipped out your driver's license. Seven-seventeen-sixty-six." He intoned with great pride.

"Unbelievable." Anthony shook his head in amazement. "You really don't forget shit."

"Nope." House smirked and wrapped his arms around Anthony. "Get used to it."

"Already am, hon." Anthony was feeling sleepy again, absorbing the warmth afforded by House's body.

House could feel Anthony relax against him and he shifted so that both of them were laying back down on the bed. "Coffee's getting cold."

"Don't care." Anthony murmured. "This is better than coffee."

House wasn't quite sure what 'this' Anthony was talking about, but he didn't particularly care. Anthony's warm weight against him was just what he wanted just then. Coffee, and anything else, could wait.

# # #

They spent the next couple of days together, Anthony making a couple of side trips to his own apartment to check in on things, grab fresh clothes, and touch base with Simon. As expected, Simon screeched when he spotted the new earrings and the meaning behind them.

House consulted on a case that had come in while he was gone. It was proving to be a bit more challenging than Cuddy had counted on, and he was spending almost as much time on the phone as he was with Anthony. Anthony watched him occasionally as he worked, transfixed by the medical jargon that spilled from his mouth and the medical journals that were scattered across the coffee table. He'd never really watched House at work, and it was fascinating to get a tiny glimpse into his world.

He ordered his team to conduct a series of tests on his patient, snapping his phone closed with a sigh before taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "I'm supposed to be on vacation. Damn kids can't do anything without me."

"They value your insight." Anthony told him, leaning over the couch to lightly rub at his shoulders and drop a kiss on top of his head. "You should be honored."

"Right." House rolled his eyes, even as he relaxed under Anthony's hands. "You still want to do New Year's at Jake's tonight?"

Anthony groaned internally. He had completely forgotten about the invitation. Secretly, he had kind of hoped House would, too. He was looking forward to a quiet New Year's with just the two of them. "We can, if you're up to it."

House shrugged. "Wouldn't kill me to go, I guess. I'll have the phone on me if the kids need to get a hold of me."

"Then it's settled." Anthony squeezed House's shoulders and padded toward the kitchen. "Now come on and eat so we can get going."

House took a quick shower and dressed, feeling edgy as he rolled up the sleeves on his button down shirt. He wasn't sure what to expect tonight, but he hoped there would be little drama when Anthony and Jake met.

Anthony returned to the bedroom after his shower, smiling widely when he spotted what House was wearing. The black button down shirt with white pinstripes over well-fitted black jeans definitely worked for House, which worked for Anthony as well. He lightly touched House's waist as he passed by on his way to the bed. "I remember this. It's a very good look for you."

House smirked in response. "Good to know."

"I'm serious." Anthony told him firmly as he dressed in a forest green button down shirt over dark wash jeans. "You'll turn a lot of heads tonight, I think."

"Kind of early to be jealous." House answered with a brief glare as he shoved his feet into shoes. "We haven't even left yet."

"I'm not jealous." Anthony threw him a baffled look. "Why the hell would I be jealous?"

"Are you kidding me?" House gave him a skeptical look in return, limping over to join Anthony on the bed. "It's not too late, you know. We can still bail."

"No." Anthony answered without much conviction, turning to kiss House's cheek. God, he was smelling better than usual. Suddenly staying home sounded like a fantastic idea. "We're already committed to this thing. Might as well go."

They were soon on the road, and Anthony was starting to feel more jittery the closer they got to Newark. He had been wanting to meet Jake ever since he and House had gotten back together, but he couldn't help but feel just a little threatened. Anthony still wasn't convinced that this guy didn't want more than friendship from House, and he wasn't sure how he was going to react should the other man make a move on House.

House regarded Anthony with a cool look. "Relax, will you? This is supposed to be fun. Out with the old, in with the new, all that."

"Easy for you to say." Anthony snapped a little harsher than he'd intended. "You're not the one meeting the guy that could have been your replacement."

"That's what this is about?" House pulled into the parking lot of Jake's apartment complex, finding a spot and shutting off the car before turning to Anthony. "Jake wasn't your _replacement_, you moron. He was..." He looked thoughtful as he waved his hand around. "...a pit stop. Right time, right place, you know."

Anthony looked unconvinced. "And if you had gone back to his room instead of your place..."

House shook his head. "You keep forgetting something."

"What?"

House leaned over and gave Anthony a firm kiss. "Jake pushed me back to _you_. I chose _you_ over _him_. That should tell you _something_."

Anthony had to reluctantly agree with House. "I suppose you're right."

"Damn right I am." House answered firmly. "So come on. Let's get on with it."

Anthony smiled slightly as he followed House into the building and onto the elevator, his nerves somewhat soothedby their brief conversation. He might just make it through this night after all.

They soon arrived at Jake's apartment, and House knocked on the door with his cane. A redheaded man in a dark blue button down over a gray t-shirt paired with black jeans answered the door. He was a couple inches shorter than Anthony, with light blue eyes and the beginnings of a short beard, clearly significantly younger than both he and House.

"Greg!" The man had a deep voice, and his young face lit up as he stepped aside to let them in. "Glad you made it." He hugged House a little too enthusiastically for Anthony's liking, but he let it go. As soon as he released House, the young man extended a hand to Anthony. "You must be Tony. I'm Jake."

"Nice to meet you." Anthony extended his hand in return, taking Jake's hand in a firm grip.

Jake's smile faded into a warm expression as he shook hands with the other man. "Greg's told me a lot about you." He looked Anthony up and down, studying him. "I hope you know what you mean to him."

Anthony smiled warmly in response, thinking of the diamond stud that he had yet to remove from his ear. "Oh, I think I do."

House rolled his eyes and placed his hand on Anthony's shoulder. "I didn't come here to shoot the shit all night. Move on."

Jake and Anthony looked at each other with an amused expression, and Jake gestured both men to follow him. He led them into a large living room, introducing them to a few of his friends. House recognized Jake's friend from the conference, acknowledging him with a nod, and the two started chatting amicably.

Anthony patted House on the shoulder, speaking softly in his ear. "I'm going to grab a beer. You want one?" House nodded, placing his hand over Anthony's in an almost possessive gesture before returning to his conversation.

He made his way to the kitchen, where a variety of beer was stashed in the sink, ice surrounding the bottles. It reminded him of more than a few college parties where the bathtub had been filled similarly.

Suddenly he felt older than usual, and he wondered if this was how House felt on a regular basis. While he was a few years younger than House, he wasn't exactly a kid himself, and he had more than a few years on Jake.

Things could have turned out so differently, Anthony knew, and the knowledge created a knot in the pit of his stomach as he cracked open a beer and leaned against the sink. Jake wasn't a bad looking guy, not at all, and he could understand how House would be attracted to him. How could someone not be flattered by the attention of a younger man? Anthony knew all too well how easily that could turn into more.

He sighed heavily and pushed himself off the sink with the intention of delivering a beer to House. As he was leaving, he nearly bumped into Jake. The young man greeted him with a nod. "I see you found the beer."

"I was just taking one to Greg. Excuse me." He moved to go around Jake, but the young man didn't move. Anthony huffed irritably. "What is your problem?"

"No problem." Jake answered casually, leaning against the door frame with his own beer. "Just wanted to talk to you a minute, if you don't mind."

"I guess." Anthony was annoyed, but if he could get this out of the way early, he was all for it. "What about?"

"You and Greg." Jake replied, glancing at the floor, deep in thought. Finally he spoke, a serious tone creeping into his deep voice. "Look...I don't know him that well, okay? But...the man loves you, and...you hurt him."

"Yeah, I know." Anthony didn't need some kid to remind him of that fact. If he hadn't done that, he wouldn't be having this conversation right now. "What's your point?"

Jake tilted his head and frowned slightly. "From what he said, I don't think you ever meant to hurt him. You seem like a decent guy." He pushed himself off the door frame and stood toe to toe with Anthony, raising his chin to stare him in the eye. "Whatever you do...don't break his heart again. I'm not so sure he can take it. I'll pick up the pieces if I have to but...I really don't want to have to do that. Just...take good care of him, will you?"

Anthony narrowed his eyes at Jake. Maybe he had misjudged the guy a little bit. "Why do you care?"

"I like the guy." Jake answered carefully. "I mean, it started out as just some thing. He kind of insisted on keeping things...on a certain level, if you know what I mean." His voice went soft with unexpressed emotion. "I know that was because of you. You had his heart, and that meant there would never be room for anyone else."

Anthony gave Jake a knowing look. "You fell for him, too." He shrugged as he took a drink of his beer. "He does have that effect on people."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Jake muttered, finishing off his beer. "Anyway...I do want to stay friends with him. I'm not trying to wait in the wings. I'd kind of like to get to know you, too, if you don't mind."

"I wouldn't...object to that." Anthony answered carefully. "I suspect I'm going to be spending a lot more time at Greg's these days. We might end up seeing a lot of each other."

Jake looked puzzled, not sure what Anthony meant. "I'm not talking about anything kinky, you know. I just want to hang out, play music, visit. You know."

Anthony laughed and shook his head. "I'm strictly a one-man man, Jake. You're perfectly safe if you decide to come visit...if you want to be, that is."

Jake felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, startled until he realized that it was merely House. "Flirting with my guy, Jake?"

Anthony fought the urge to grin like an idiot at House's public claim on him. "He's fine, hon. We were just talking."

"Good." House fixed Jake with a slight glare that masked the teasing expression in his eyes. "As long as that's all it is."

Anthony eased an arm around House's waist and squeezed him lightly, handing him the beer he had intended to bring him earlier.

Jake couldn't help but smile a little at the obvious affection between the two men. House had certainly never looked at him like that, although perhaps he would have, given enough time. He supposed that it didn't matter now. His friend was clearly happy, and that's all that really mattered. "Well, hey. It's getting close to the midnight countdown. Everyone gathers up in the living room."

The young man left, and Anthony broke into a slight chuckle, shaking his head. "That boy's got it bad for you."

"Yeah, yeah." House rolled his eyes, an amused expression crossing his face.

"He's awfully cute." Anthony nudged House. "You sure it's safe for him to crash on the couch?"

House glared at Anthony before giving him a firm smack on the rear. "It'd damn well better be. I still plan on hanging out with him, you know. You just keep your paws off him."

Anthony rolled his eyes and wrapped both arms around House, pulling him in for a quick kiss. "I said he was cute. I didn't say I wanted him. Didn't we already cover this?"

"Pretty sure we did." House eased his arms around Anthony, taking a moment to admire the studs that sparkled in his ear. He frowned briefly before speaking again. "What do you think of...you know...shopping around for a place together?"

Anthony shrugged, his heart beating quickly in his chest. "We could start looking. I wouldn't object." He gave House another kiss, lingering a little longer this time. "My lease isn't up until late summer. That should give us all kinds of time to find something."

"Good. We'll probably need it." House answered, suddenly looking puzzled. "Are we really having this conversation?"

"Yep, we are." Anthony laughed. "I didn't think it would ever happen for me, either."

A slow smile crept across House's weathered features as he leaned against the doorway. "I really love you, you know that?"

"I love you too, hon."

They could hear Jake's voice getting everyone together to start the countdown to midnight, but the two men chose to stay in the kitchen as the small crowd counted down.

"_Five...four...three...two...one...HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!" _The living room erupted into noise and cheers as House and Anthony shared a deep, long kiss.

They finally broke apart with one final short kiss. "Happy New Year, hon." Anthony murmured.

"So far, so good." House answered softly. "And Happy New Year to you, too."

"I sure as hell hope it will be." Anthony told him.

House hoped so, too. Considering how last year had gone for him, this one was already shaping up to be a hell of a lot better. He smiled to himself as he pulled Anthony to him, secure in the knowledge that he could make it on his own if he had to, but damned grateful that the boy had agreed to come along for whatever ride they were heading on.

He chuckled to himself as he rubbed his hands up and down Anthony's back, still amazed at the journey that had brought him here, with this man. The fact that it was a man that had taken over his heart and mind still surprised him, but House was more or less getting over that now. He was deep in love with Anthony, and he didn't give a damn who knew anymore.

He captured Anthony's lips in a hard kiss, pulling him in close and losing himself in the feeling that washed over him. With any luck, there would be many more of these New Years to come. Suddenly House couldn't wait to find out.

**THE END**

# # #

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